


Come Home - A Witcher/Skyrim story

by Madnad



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Skyrim, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), F/M, Geralt of Rivia - Freeform, Post-Skyrim Civil War, Post-Skyrim Main Quest, Skyrim - Freeform, Skyrim Crossover, The Witcher crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25109218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madnad/pseuds/Madnad
Summary: I have played Skyrim for years, and posted a Skyrim fanfic here already. A couple of years ago, I started playing Witcher 3, then read some of the books, then wrote this crossover piece. After I watched the Witcher TV show, I revisited it, and rewrote some of it, but left it languishing on my harddrive not convinced anyone but me would enjoy it - still not sure if anyone wants a Skyrim/Witcher crossover, but here it is anyway.Geralt of Rivia is summoned to the continent of Tamriel for a contract, at a price he cannot afford to refuse. He finds instead another treasure in the form of Selenia Veleandas of Morrowind.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Geralt of Rivia
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

The elf crept  silently; an arrow knocked ready. Despite being well after midday, the morning mist had still not fully dissipated and hugged the ground like a blanket. She kept her body low, much of her movement hidden by the mist. She was about five lengths away from her prey, and decided this was close enough. She crouched low in the long dew-covered grass and drew back the arrow, silently taking aim. The cool of the day cleared her mind, providing calm focus. She exhaled slowly then released. The large hare let out a brief cry before tumbling to the ground.

Selenia  Veleandas approached, and placed a hand on the creature’s shoulder. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to the animal’s spirit in thanks for the nutrition its meat will provide. She removed her arrow, then placed the carcass into the sack slung over her shoulder. She was about to hang the bow on her back when she heard a commotion. The mist was distorting the sound but her exquisite hearing told her it was closer than it sounded. 

A few lengths to her right, the ground dropped away in a kind of small cliff face, the peak of which stood proud from the shallow mist. She crept to the edge, crouching again so  as not to be spotted. She could see on the road below an unsuspecting traveller was surrounded by about a dozen bandits in their tell-tale garb. The traveller looked like a warrior if the two long swords strapped to his back were any indication. She had never seen anyone wear swords like that before, and wondered what strange land he had travelled from. He was covered in black leather armour, with chain-mail plates across the shoulders. The most striking thing about him, other than his size, was his bright white hair.

She heard the warrior try to reason with the men, his voice weary, urging them to let him by as he was just looking for somewhere to get a bed, a meal and a bath. 

The bandits taunted him.

‘ You can be on your way once we’ve relieved you of  anythin ’ valuable in  those bags you’re  carryin ’.’

Selenia swore she heard the warrior sigh in exasperation. Not the response she was expecting considering he was so greatly outnumbered. Some of the  Falkreath bandits were  notoriously fierce. The chance of them letting him go once they got any of his valuables was zero. The elf debated whether to intervene or not. Just as she asked herself that question, the warrior looked up. He looked right at her, almost as if he had heard her thoughts. Selenia was a little unnerved. 

The warrior pulled one of the swords off his back and swung off his horse. The horse made itself scarce while the warrior ran at the bandits with a roar. In a split second, he had removed the head of one bandit, and eviscerated another. He was skilled, that was evident, but he was outnumbered, and some of the remaining bandits were trying to circle around him. Selenia decided to intervene. 

Within a matter of seconds, she had fired three arrows towards those closest to the warrior , each one  lethally  making its target. The drop from her vantage point was about eight lengths. She stood up, took a step back, then somersaulted off the cliff face, and landed with a small thud behind some of the remaining bandits. 

Despite being right in the fray, her sharp vision saw enough to be impressed with the warrior’s swordplay. If a length was the height of an average man, then he was definitely taller than average, and his armour of very form fitting leather and chain mail armour, emphasised his broad chest. The snow-white hair that hung to his shoulders had given her the impression he was elderly, but now she was closer, she could see that didn’t appear to be the case. 

After witnessing his skills, she realised that he would have been able to handle this rabble by himself, but something had driven her to join in. She had stood too long on the side lines. 

Four bandits rushed him together, assuming wrongly there was safety in numbers , the final three heading towards her . The warrior’s  yellow  eyes  turned lilac briefly as  he  manipulated his fingers in the air, then  a silent force shot from his  hand pushing  half of them back, allowing him to deal with them two at a time.  _ A magic user! _

She got off one more shot before the final two turned towards her. They were too close so she  quickly  hung her bow over the quiver strapped to her back with practiced ease , and released a small but viciously sharp axe from the clasp where it hung from her waist. 

All enemies despatched, she wiped the wetted blade of her axe on the filthy clothes of one of the dead bandits, then started to retrieve her arrows. When she was done, she noticed the warrior was watching her, so she approached him. Now that she could really look at him, she discovered he was very handsome. He had a square jaw, and sensual lips. He was very tall and muscularwith wide shoulders. Despite his size, he looked Nord maybe, but not entirely she suspected, as humans don’t usually have yellow eyes with slit pupils.    


~~~

‘I’m Geralt of  Rivia ,’  he stated as an introduction to his new companion. 

The woman had remarkable eyes. The almond shaped eyes had iris of a luminescent red outlined with a dark brown. The unusual eyes blinked at him in confusion. Clearly, she had no clue where  Rivia was. 

_ We’re a long way from the northern kingdoms,  _ he admitted to himself.

Her hair was dark and straight, and hung to just past her shoulders. The top half was tied back with a strip of leather to keep it out of her eyes, much like his own, and it showed off a pretty but angular face. Her skin was quite pale, almost grey, with cheek bones that were high and sharp, but her full lips softened the overall look. With the pointed ears, there was no mistaking her heritage, however.

‘I’m Selenia… of  Morrowind ,’ she finally answered, the addition of her homeland seeming anomalous.

He had a long-standing mistrust of elves, but the elves of this land seemed to be several distinct races, all very different to the elves back home. What he knew of this continent known as  Tamriel was that  Morrowind was the land of the dark elves, though they called themselves the  Dunmer . He understood them to be darker skinned, but strangely she stood almost as fair-skinned as some of the Nord women he had seen on arrival in Skyrim. 

She was dressed in hunter’s garb, an outfit of dusty brown leather  with some fur trim. It wouldn’t afford much protection from a bladed weapon , he surmised, but with her bow skills  and agility  he suspected most assailants don’t get close enough, and when they did, they met the mean looking axe she carried. 

She held out a long-fingered hand after wiping it on the thigh of the leather pants that Geralt noticed hugged her curves enticingly.

‘Thank you for your assistance,’ he said with a slight nod as he took her hand . 

She smiled, her scarlet eyes raking up and down him, silently assessing. He knew he could be an imposing figure, and stood several hands taller than her, but she did not seem fearful in anyway. There wasn’t that usual wary look he was used to seeing in people’s eyes.

He glanced at the bodies around them.

‘Don’t worry about them,’ the elf said. The animals will deal with the bodies’. She looked at him and smiled. 

Geralt looked around, then whistled.  A ches t nut mare whinnied and cantered out of the trees and ran over to him.

‘Hey, Roach,’ he murmured soft ly , stroking the horse ’ s  velvet nose. 

He looked at Selenia. ‘Roach and I should be on our way. I would be grateful if you could tell me of the nearest inn where I can get a meal and a bed.’

Selenia looked thoughtful ,  the small tip of her tongue ran  slowly  across her bottom lip. Geralt was fascinated by its progress, and tried to ignore a  surprising urge to suck the small appendage. 

‘I would be more than happy to offer you a room at my hom e. I have  some hare in my bag so I can provide a hot meal too. It’s not far from here.’

Geralt considered her  surprising  offer , but then the people of Skyrim didn’t know of his reputation. Here, people didn’t shrink away and hide at the sight of him . 

He didn’t feel that this woman was a threat in anyway. She had literally jumped into a fight when she could have walked away. When he spotted her atop the cliff face, something had tugged at his Witcher senses, making him look. Not in warning, but almost in a recognition of something fated. He had watched her land gracefully from a height that would have broken a man’s legs. There was something about this woman that intrigued him. Plus, a home cooked meal sounded good.

‘I gladly accept,’ he smiled briefly , an action he did rarely.

He swung up onto his horse and shuffled forward, then offered a hand to the woman. She grasped his forearm in a surprisingly strong grip, and leapt up behind him, her hands resting lightly around his waist after pointing in the direction of travel. 

As Roach picked his way along the road at a good pace, Geralt could feel the heat from her inner thighs pressed against his legs. Now and again she would lean forward and he could feel her breasts press into his back.  Wafts of a spicy woody smell  with hints of cinnamon and  sandlewood filled his  perceptive  nostrils,  he presumed from the elf . It reminded him of an exotic  perfume he had once smelled from a trader of the nomadic peoples of  Korath . It was a heady and intoxicating smell to his heightened Witcher sense of smell.  He hoped her home wasn’t too far as he was finding it hard to concentrate.

Selenia pointed him down a steep  almost hidden  path that looked like it would lead  down to the large lake in the distance.  As they went lower , a building came into view. Geralt was surprised to see not the humble small home he was expecting, but a generously proportioned manor house. The house was nestled  next to the roc ky mountain side, on a sloping p ath that headed d own  to the water . Its  secluded  position made it impossible to spot  from up on the main road, and you could easily ignore the  start of the path that wound between the trees and the mountain if you didn’t know it was there.

As Roach came to a stop, Selenia slid off the back of the horse’s rump and headed towards the main entrance.  As she approached, a large dark- grey wolf slunk out of the surrounding trees and stalked towards her. 

Roach nickered in warning, and  Geralt swung down and drew his sword. 

‘Wait!’ Selenia yelled , her hand raised towards him . ‘He’s a friend,’ she cautioned, bending over to rub at the thick scruff around the wolf’s neck . Geralt watched in surprise as the large male wolf rolled onto his back . She  laughed and murmured nonsense in a language he couldn’t understand, but by the tone, it was words of affection for this wild creature as she rubbed and scratched at its belly . The animal lifted its huge head, its eyes full of adoration for this unusual woman. As she laughed, the creature gave her a lick up the side of her face.

‘Does he live with you?’

‘No,’ she laughed. ‘ I call him  Kodlak , and he visits me almost every day, but h e has a den  and a family  just to the west of here. I give him the odd meal, and in return he watches over my home when I’m not here.’

She dug in her bag,  and pulled out the two large ha r e s she had  shot earlier , and tossed one to the wolf. He leapt and caught it with a snap of his huge jaws before sli nk ing off back into the darkness of the trees. 

‘Plus, if I didn’t feed him, he would steal my chickens,’ she added before heading indoors.

Geralt glanced towards the coop to the right of the property, then put his sword away, shaking his head in disbelief. He grabbed the reins and led Roach onto the stable. A cow mooed at him, and watching him suspiciously with large liquid-brown eyes. 

He removed Roach’s saddle and gave her a quick brush down, then forked out some fresh hay, before patting the horse’s neck in affection. 

‘Be nice,’ he warned the  mare ,  his nod indicating towards the cow. 

Geralt walked towards the house, his eyes wary for the wolf, but there was no sign.  _ Doesn’t mean he isn’t watching _ he reminded himself.

When he walked through the front door, he came into a so rt of reception room, about the size he was expecting the entire building to be if he was honest .  The room was an interesting insight to  Selenia’s life, and  showed off a few souvenirs of  her travel s . She was obviously quite the adventurer. On one wall was a map of the land of Skyrim ,  and he wondered how much of it she had seen. O n  the opposite wall was the head of some slaughtered beast.  Several s helves contained strange trinkets and jewels.  Geralt wondered that bandits hadn’t raided this place.  The wolf was clearly a successful deterrent. 

There were a few display cases that held  marvellous  weapons of styles he had never seen the like.  Just before the entrance to the next room, h e could see a rack where she had hung her bow , quiver and axe, so he took off his swords and placed them in the rack next to her weapons . He kept his small dagger on him though, not that he felt in any danger, but because he felt naked without it. 

The next room was a  cozy but large hall with a couple of doors leading to side rooms and stairs leading up to a second floor. The room was lit by a hearth at the far end, and a few flickering sconces on the walls. Geralt could see that Selenia had also lit a few candles on the table. There were lavish rugs over the wooden floor, and a few tapestries on the wall. A long banqueting table dominated the room, in the centre of which was silver fruit bowls piled high with apples of green and red. There were place settings for two, and a few bottles of wine and cups. There was a board containing cheeses and some bread that going by the smell, was reasonably fresh.  Geralt’s stomach rumbled, and he was tempted to grab an apple, but he could hear sounds of cooking from the next room, which he presumed was the kitchen.

Geralt stepped into the kitchen and was surprised to see that it was very well stocked, with more  shelves full of cheeses,  bags of various grains and baskets of vegetables . He could see a barrel full of potatoes, and there was dried meat and fish hanging near the cooking fire. In one corner, there was a small oven, and Geralt now knew where the bread came from.  There was enough food here to feed a family for weeks.

Selenia had already skinned the hare,  its fur discarded on the table,  and was dropp ing pieces of the meat into a  black  cooking  pot  over the flames,  full of a broth  and some vegetables. The smell of the rich broth and herbs made Geralt’s stomach rumble again. Selenia  looked at him and smiled .

‘Food won’t be long. There are two bedrooms off the hall, you are welcome to use either. 

‘Is there anything I can do to assist,’ he offered. 

‘No, I have it all in hand.  Feel free to have a look around  the place  while you wait.’

‘Thank you , I will . But if you need anything, please just ask, ’ he rep lied.

Eyeing the stew longingly one more time, he turned towards the bedrooms. He walked in the first room which contained two single beds covered in green blankets, and a small dresser. He couldn’t picture his large frame fitting in either of those comfortably, so tried the next room. This room had a large four-poster bed, again with green coverings, and even a  wardrobe. He dropped his bag in the room, and took off his leather and mail armour. He decided to go look around outside, and followed the path towards the lake, grabbing a red apple from the table as he walked by. 

As the path wove down to the left side of the house, he passed a wooden framed greenhouse and vegetable garden that seemed well tended. When he got to the lake, he saw a small jetty with an old rickety weather-worn chair at the end. Propped against the posts at the end of the jetty was a fishing rod and net. Geralt smiled. He had vague memories of fishing as a child. To be able to just sit, and watch the changing skies as you waited for the fish to bite sounded idyllic. He sighed. He was tired. Not just from lack of sleep, but of the life he led. 

He stood for a few more moments, allowing the peace of the lake to sooth e his soul . Other than the hoot of a few distant birds and the lapping of the lake against the jetty, it was silent. His stomach grow led ,  so  he turned back up the path to the house.  When he walked in, his eyes widened in surprise. 

‘You’re right on time!’ Selenia called brightly  as she approached the long table carrying a serving bowl full of hot steaming stew . 

Su r prisingly, she had found time to light all the fires and get changed while he was out . T he brown leather  and furs  had been swapped for a  slightly worn but  soft  looking  woollen dress that flowed to the floor . The dress was the same red as her eyes and was cinched with a black bodice that hugged her figure as much as the armour had done, but also succeeded in pushing her breasts upwards. Geralt was hungry, but if asked, he would have had a hard time choosing between the woman and the food.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/The Witcher crossover

Selenia beckoned Geralt to the table. As he sat, she glanced at the medallion he wore that nestled in a patch of chest hair visible through the V open at the top of his linen shirt. It looked silver, and bore the likeness of a wolf’s head with bared jaws. She wondered if this was a family crest, or his guild. Her old guild had worn something similar, but smiled gently to herself as she suspected for very different reasons. 

Once again, Selenia was struck by how handsome he was ,  even in the dim light of the candles . He looked more relaxed now he had removed much of his armour,  less threatening, but still very capable .  The scar that ran the length of his face did nothing to detract from the  handsome features. She suspected he was never short of a bed fellow. 

Geralt picked up a bottle of wine as she dished out the  hot  stew , and raised a questioning brow towards her.

‘Please, help yourself ,’ she smiled. ‘ It’s a spiced blackberry wine from  Riften . ’ 

S he pushed her own cup towards him , and carried on serving the stew . She sat as he filled the two glasses, then smiled as he raise d his glass. 

‘Good health,’ he saluted, his voice as deep and rich as the wine. She mirrored his action, then took a small sip before diving into her food. 

Selenia tore o f f a chunk of the loaf, and dipped it into the hot stew. She closed her eyes  in pleasure , savouring the  delicious  meaty  flavours. Her guest seemed to be enjoying his meal  too  as he silently alternated between dunking his bread in the sauce, and spooning the stew straight into his mouth. 

It was clear when she met him that he had been  road weary , and she had been intrigued enough by his unusual appearance that she invited him to her home. She was happy to provide him a good meal and a bed in exchange for some company.

Though he had been nothing but polite and respectful, he was quite taciturn and she wished he spoke more as she was intrigued to know more about who he was, where he had come from, and what he was doing here in Skyrim. She also rather liked the deep timber of his voice.

‘This may appear rude, but can I ask what you are doing here in Skyrim?’ 

Geralt looked thoughtful as he chewed his mouthful of food. 

‘I’m looking for someone. I have a contract in  Bruma , so I am just passing through Skyrim .’

‘A contract?  What is it you have to do?’ she asked. 

‘Not sure,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘I got sent word, and partial payment to meet my contact in  Bruma . I’ll get the details then I guess.’

‘So y ou’ re a mercenary then?’

‘Of a sort. I am a W itcher,’ he answered , looking at her directly, almost in a challenge.  Selenia guessed by his tone he was used  to people knowing what that was, and that he was expecting her to be appalled.

‘I’m sorry…’ she shrugged. ‘ I don’t understand. What’s a  Witcher ?’

Geralt took a draught of his wine and put down his  fork . 

‘A  Witcher is a human that has been mutated by magic and ritual as a child, then undergoes extensive physical and mental training.  Those that survive the trials are stronger,  live longer, and are able to do things other humans are not to aid us  in the fight  against the darker things in the world.’

‘Wow ! T hat sounds impressive.’

‘Many don’t share your sentiment. There are consequences of the trails we undergo. There are physical changes, such as our eyes, and we are sterile. Many people believe we don’t feel emotions, but that isn’t strictly true,’ he said with a slight curl of amusement on his lips, as if to emphasise his point. ‘We learn to control them, rather than be a slave to them. You can’t fight some of the creatures I’ve seen if you feel fear, so we suppress it. Bury it deep. Over time, you do it without thinking.’

Selenia sat and thought about his words as she chewed some gravy soaked bread ,  wondering if he would volunteer any more information, but he commenced eating again . His transformation at a young age explained his  solemnity , and possibly his appearance . She had not seen him smile more than a slight grimace in the few hours she had known him. Yet, despite the outwardly gruff nature, she sensed there was a decent man in there. The obvious affection he showed for his horse was one clue, though with his personality, she wondered if the horse was his only friend.  He had also offered to help her earlier, showing a gratitude for her hospitality.

‘Who else lives here?’ he asked, startling her out of her reverie. 

‘ Oh!  Just me. I live alone. ’

‘This is a large home for one person,’ he stated.

She smiled, but it was a sad smile that didn’t make it to her eyes. 

‘It was a gift, from the High King of Skyrim .’

His eyebrows raised in surprise.  ‘And what did you do to earn such a reward?’

‘I helped lead a revolution that restored him to his throne and defeated  Alduin the World Eater, the dragon god of destruction.’

~~~

Geralt put down his cup , almost spluttering in surprise . This woman, this elf was either a liar or he was in the presence of a celebrity.  How  Jaskier would have loved to hear her story.

_ Maybe I will tell him someday. _

‘Alone?’ he asked.

‘Sometimes, but I definitely had some help.’

Geralt intuitively felt she wasn’t lying, and if anything, seemed to be down playing her role. Her achievements would certainly explain all the rare and exquisite weapons on display in the entrance hall. 

‘How did this come about?’

‘It was fate ,’ she laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound .  ‘ I am the  Dragonborn .’

Like his claim of being a Witcher didn’t appear to be in her ken, he couldn’t say he was familiar with the term  Dragonborn . He had a vague recollection of a minstrel in the inn he stayed in when he first arrived sang something about a  Dragonborn . He wished he had listened more closely now.

‘And what does that mean,’ he pressed.

‘Now? Nothing. Not really.  In the years since, m y deeds have been consigned to myth and legend, and I suspect that many people want to forget about me anyway. I’ m a reminder of dark days. ’

‘ What do you mean that you were fated?’

If he was to tell this story to  Jaskier one day, he would need all the details. 

_ Is that the only reason I want to know? _

Selenia stood up, and he worried that he had offended his host. 

‘I apo logise if I have caused offence, ’ he expressed with regret , also standing .

She pointed to a cabinet behind him. ‘ It’s a long story.  If you really want to know, then grab that jug of mead and follow me.’

Intrigued, he grabbed the jug, and followed.

She led him thro ugh the kitchen, and out of a back door.  The door led out onto a naturally formed rock plateau, and at the edge of the plateau was built a  large round  bath, big  enough for three or four people. It was filled with warm water as he could see pillars of steam rising gently from the hot water. 

‘ I believe you said something about wanting a bath?  The  hot spring  water comes from deep within the mountain, I’m told,’ she explained. 

She walked up to the bath’s edge, and immediately started to undress. Before Geralt realised what was happening, her bodice was already off and she was loosening the fastenings of her dress. 

Geralt tried to respect his host and not stare, but as the dress pooled to the floor, he was entranced by her trim waist and heart shaped bottom. Clearly unperturbed by his presence and her nudity, she climbed into the bath. Her legs were long and lithe, and along with her arms, showed a good depth of muscle tone. Before she was under the water and out of view, he made out a few silvery lines of old scars on her skin that with a life as a warrior.

He placed the jug on the side of the bath and quickly undressed himself. Selenia had already grabbed the large jug of mead, and pulled open the stopper. She tilted it back and drank  heartily  as he slid into the water. 

The  warmth of the water instantly  began soothing the aching muscles and joints from  too  many  days in the saddle and sleeping  rough  on the ground , and he let out a contented sigh . He could get used to this.

Selenia passed him the jug.

‘ I made it myself. I know the location of a few hives nearby.’

The mead was strong and sweet as it slipped down his throat.

The bath had a  tiled  roof overhead,  and  since the sun was starting to set, the light was fading fast. O n the pillars  supporting the roof  hung sconces  h olding unlit candles. With a brief flash of lilac to his eyes, he pointed at the nearest candles . A subtle movement of his fingers and  the candle lit providing a subtle glow to their bathing.

Selenia looked at the sconce closest to her, and shot a hand towards it. A small fire ball burst from her palm, and lit the candle. She grinned at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. So she was a magic user too.  As an elf he supposed she would have some innate magic.  No wonder she got the hearth and cooking fires lit so quickly.

He placed the mead  jug  on the rim of the bath.

‘So,  Dragonborn . You have a story to tell.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. If so, I would love it if you could leave me kudos or better yet, a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/The Witcher crossover

Selenia didn’t want to tell her story. She was looking at the broad muscular expanse of chest, broad shoulders and powerful arms and instead wanted to run her hands over them, and trace the scars with her fingers. She was especially fascinated by the chest hair. Her people were hairless other than the hair on their heads, and chest hair was still a great fascination to her. 

She distracted herself by grabbing the jug of mead, taking a large swig, then put it back on the rim of the bath. 

‘I grew up in a town in western Morrowind, a province to the east. I arrived in Skyrim via Cyrodiil, about twenty years ago. The intention had been to try and find my father. He had been a trader, and following a brief romance as he passed through Karththor Dale, he impregnated my mother. She died in childbirth, and I was raised by my grandparents. My upbringing was not as genial as it should have been. My grandparents not so secretly blamed me for my mother’s death, plus they hated that I was a halfling. I left Morrowind, determined to find him, confident that he would welcome me with open arms. I passed through Cyrodiil, and found work with a mercenary guild. Eventually, after a brief stay in Bruma, I made it to Skyrim and was mistakenly arrested as a thief. While I was incarcerated, the town was attacked by a dragon.’ 

‘Alduin?’ Geralt asked. 

‘The very same,’ she nodded. 

‘It was unheard of in the area, as the dragons were believed to have been dead for centuries. But even stranger, this dragon seemed to follow me as I tried to escape. He seemed to single me out, as if sensing where I was, and I had no idea why.’ 

‘How did you get away,’ he asked, taking a slug of the mead and passed her the jug. 

She took another swallow herself, enjoying the way it warmed her belly. 

‘I escaped through an underground cavern, and eventually ended up in a town called Whiterun. Word got to the Jarl that I had witnessed a dragon, so when he got reports there was another dragon not far from the hold, I was summoned. He offered me gold to go with his men to defeat the creature.’ 

Selenia shook her head in recollection. ‘It was a blood bath. Though smaller than the giant I had witnessed before, it was no less deadly. The men didn’t stand a chance against the flames of the dragon’s breath,’ she paused, shaking her head at the memory. 

‘I presume you defeated the dragon with your magic?’ he asked. 

‘Yes, between my raw elven magic, my arrows and the efforts of the soldiers, we did manage to finally slay the beast. It was what happened next that was remarkable however.’ 

‘Which was?’ he prompted, as he slid closer, clearly invested in this story. 

‘The dragon’s body began to dissolve, to crumble like ash. As these particles flew apart, an energy seemed to be released, and rushed into me from all directions. I absorbed its soul, the very essence of the dragon was thrumming in my body, and I didn’t know how. A pressure grew within my chest and I felt the urge to shout. When I did, a blast of sound burst forth with enough force to push the nearby men along the ground.’ 

‘Interesting,’ Geralt commented, looking thoughtful. 

Selenia was once again staring at his chest and forced herself to look in his eyes. He looked genuinely interested in her story. His golden eyes were softer than before, and held her gaze. She felt a need for him then. An ache she hadn’t felt in an age. A need to feel his lips against her, his arms around her, and his cock inside her. 

‘So what did you do then?’ he asked. 

She hoped he hadn’t noticed the hunger in her eyes, and she forced herself to concentrate on her story. ‘I have some innate magic, as a half elf, but I had never experienced anything like this, and didn’t know what to make of it. Shortly after I returned to Whiterun, I received word from an order known as the Greybeards instructing me to go to them. They taught me how to harness this power, known as _thu’um_ or shout, but explained that I was given this gift because I was prophesised to defeat Alduin.’ 

‘That’s a lot of pressure,’ he commented. 

‘Centuries before, Alduin had led the dragons in an attack against men and elves alike. A group of heroes had tried to defeat him with magic, but instead, all they did was send him forward in time. He had begun to visit dragon graves in our time, and resurrect his followers to complete his mission.’ 

Geralt was staring at her intently. ‘So you had to defeat Alduin and his army of dragons?’ 

She nodded. ‘Yes, I travelled the length and breadth of Skyrim, defeating all the dragons one at a time. Each one I killed, I absorbed its soul, preventing Alduin from resurrecting it again, but it also made my Dragonborn powers more powerful. Once I defeated Alduin, the few remaining dragons left the world of men, and I had no further purpose.’ 

‘A true hero,’ he complimented. 

‘Hardly,’ she snorted. ‘Just in the wrong place at the wrong time! The real heroes were those that stood with me, that didn’t have the _thu’um_ , they had no Dragonborn abilities, yet faced a dragon god by my side.’ 

‘Do you adventure still?’ 

Selenia gritted her teeth, swallowed the emotion rising up her throat, and shook her head. 

‘I had intended to retire and raise a family with my husband after Alduin was defeated… I met my husband while I was in Whiterun, but he was killed by Alduin in the final battle.’ 

Selenia snatched the jug from Geralt and drank deeply, swallowing the drink and her grief. 

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said softly, his voice genuinely sympathetic. 

She blinked away the tears threatening to tumble. ‘Thank you. I miss him every day, and probably always will. But it was a long time ago now. And life must go on. But I do get lonely.’ 

‘Is that why you invited me to your home?’ 

She laughed softly. ‘No, you were in need and I had the means to help you, nothing more.’ 

He smiled gently. ‘So what for you now?’ 

‘After Alduin was defeated, everyone wanted a piece of me. Everyone wanted the power of the Dragonborn at their beck and call,’ she laughed darkly. ‘I supported the revolution, and gained Ulfric his throne, but this was more because it had been my husband’s wish to see a Nord rule Skyrim than any desire to align myself with an arrogant man who has questionable views on race. Afterwards, Ulfric offered to make me his queen, but I declined, and took this home instead. Now, I’m retired. I no longer go on adventures. I live here peacefully, I hunt, I fish, and I cook. The holds of Skyrim still send me tithes of food or drink in return for what I did for them many years ago, much of which I give away to nearby farms and villages.’ 

‘You are as generous as you are gifted,’ he said, raising the jug of mead to her in a toast. 

She stared at him, his eyes burning with a passion that reflected her own, like molten gold they looked deep within her. A heat crept through her body that had nothing to do with the hot water. She stood up out of the bath directly in front of him, and allowed him to look at her naked form. She saw his eyes glide over her. 

‘If the guest rooms are not to your satisfaction, you are welcome to join me in mine.’ 

~~~ 

Geralt was riveted to the spot as she climbed out of the bath, the water droplets glimmering in the candlelight like jewels on her pale skin. She bent down to pick up her clothes, then strode back into the house without a backwards glance. Her story had left him lost for words and a little smitten. He hadn’t met anyone as impressive and as beautiful as Selenia for a long time. Every time he found some new bit of information about her, the more his estimation went up. 

The meaning of her final words finally sank through his reverie. Never one to turn down the opportunity to sleep with a beautiful woman, Geralt leapt from the bath and ran after her, grabbing his clothes and boots on the way. 

He made it through the kitchen and into the hall just to see her ankles disappearing from view up the staircase. 

_She’s fast!_

Climbing two steps at a time, he caught up with her just inside her bedroom. Throwing his clothes to the floor, he grabbed the tops of her arms roughly and pulled her to him. As he crushed his lips against her, he slid his hands down her back, and over the rounded flesh of her rump. He backed her up until they hit the bed, and let the two of them fall. 

He lifted his head to admire her as he ran a rough hand over the smooth skin of her body. She was still moist from the bath, but it did nothing to supress the spicy cinnamon smell that seem to exude from her pores. He looked at her face, the black pupil of her eyes so wide that they almost filled the red iris. Her lips were flushed and rosy from either the heat of the water, the alcohol, or his rough kisses. As his hand cupped the soft flesh of her breast, she gasped in anticipation. Geralt smiled as he felt the dark nipple pucker under the calloused skin of his palm. He tilted his head down and drew the inviting mound into his mouth. 

He felt her place a hand behind his head, pressing him further into her breast. He sucked on it greedily, pulling and nibbling at the tip as Selenia squirmed beneath him. 

As he devoured her breast, he moved his hand lower until it skimmed across her hip bone and settled at the hairless apex of her thighs. Her whisper of his name become a sigh as his large hands spread her open and thick fingers delved into her folds. 

He could smell her juices mixed with the spicy scent of her skin, sending a bolt of arousal through him. She was slick with her nectar and he knew it would taste as divine as it smelled. He had to taste her now or go mad. He slid off the bed, kneeling between her legs like a devotee at a goddess’s altar. He dipped his head down, his rough tongue teasing her clit, eliciting another moan as a reward. The broad expanse of his tongue swept upwards, the tip finally pressing tight firm circles around her clit. 

Her hand was still rested on his head, fingers entwined in his hair, shaking with tension. Another hand joined it as she eagerly pressed his face deep into her moist folds with a cry of need. He moved a couple of thick fingers to twist within her, reaching secret depths, their tips running over the textured area within. 

She drew up her knees, and he enthusiastically took advantage of the greater access. He felt her move beneath him, her hips bucking as she fucked his face. Her body quivered, then at the beckoning of his mouth, she tensed suddenly until finally the tension in her snapped and was released in an anguished cry. 

Her cry rang in his ears, triggering a need that pooled in his groin, so he lifted his head and grinned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, I would really love it if you left kudos or a comment. Thank you


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia wanted to languish in the afterglow of the first orgasm she had had in years, but she could tell by the predatory grin on Geralt’s face, he was far from done yet. 

She watched as he slowly moved up and over her. She shuffled back to a more central position in the bed, not to escape him, but to more fully welcome him. He had known exactly where to touch, where to lick, and where to nibble, as if he knew her body better than her so she readily anticipated this next bout. 

Her eyes widened at the vision of him. Without his clothes, he was revealed to her and he was a magnificent sight. He was huge, and defined muscles flexed as he loomed over her, his weight supported on corded arms. Almost without thinking, she parted her legs, and once within reach, she pulled him towards her. Her languid contentment had been replaced by an urgent need, a need to be filled. It had been so long. 

She looked down to his groin, it was rampant and ready, and the tip glistened with pre-cum. His size was significant. It would prove formidable to conquer, but she was never one to back away from a challenging situation. 

She pulled him down to her, and kissed him hungrily. As his lips parted, she slipped her tongue within. She could taste herself on his lips, a sharpness in contrast to the sweetness of the mead. His stubble scraped against her cheek, but she ignored it. As his tongue invaded her mouth, she could feel the tip of his cock bump against her sensitive clit. She lifted her heels and pressed them into his rump, encouraging him forward. 

He growled as his hips plunged him deep within her. This was no gentle love making, both of them desperate to satisfy a need. Selenia broke the kiss with a gasp as she felt her core stretch to accommodate his girth. 

‘Gods, you’re so tight,’ he muttered as he propped himself up on his elbows. He buried his face into her neck, nipping and nibbling at the sensitive skin as he thrust rhythmically. Selenia panted, her arms grasping onto his back, as the wave of pleasure built within her again. When it finally crashed, she cried out once more, and Geralt grunted his final thrusts as he emptied his barren seed into her belly. 

As her limbs relaxed, she felt pinned to the bed, and not just by the hulking man currently impaled within her. Once he stopped trembling, the last of his orgasm dying, he pulled out and rolled onto his back. The two of them laid side by side getting their breath back. Selenia looked over at him, and admired his profile silhouetted against the single candle on the night stand. Despite that stern glare, and horrific scar, he was exquisitely beautiful. Yet everything about him was masculine. 

His head turned to look at her, and she gulped nervously. His gaze was so penetrating, she almost felt like he could see into her thoughts. 

She thought he was going to say something, but to her surprise he just moved an arm under her head and pulled her to him. A surprisingly affectionate gesture, Selenia was pleased and rested her head on his broad chest, and couldn’t resist stroking the chest hairs scattered. She draped a leg over his, and snuggled her body closer. She smiled when she heard a contented sigh from Geralt. She listened to his strong heart beat slow as he fell asleep, and lulled by the sound, she slipped into unconsciousness soon after. 

~~~ 

Geralt woke, his bladder achingly full. The room was dark, the small candle having burned out, but a faint light glowed through the door from the candles left lit in the dining hall down below. His Witcher eyesight worked quite well in low light, so it was enough for him to see by. 

He glanced down at the tumble of dark hair strewn across his chest, his arm pinned under her head, her breathing slow and heavy. Gently, he brushed the hair from her face, and looked at the sleeping half-elf. Her dark lashes laid on her cheek, and her nose was small and pointed, and quite possibly the cutest thing he had seen causing a soft smile on his face. 

Her full lips were lightly parted, and her warm breath blew across his chest. All her cares had vanished from her face, making her look young while she slept, though if her tale was to be believed she wasn’t. He smiled at her before slowly extricating himself from the sleeping beauty, and slid off the bed. He looked around for a chamber pot but couldn’t see one, so crept down stairs and out the front door. The night air was cold as he stood in the doorway, casting a faint shadow. He urinated just to the right of the door, his eyes scanning the dark rim of the treeline. He thought he could make out the reflection of eyes in the dark, and smirked. 

_I wonder how the wolf feels about another male marking this territory._

Geralt finished, and closed the door. He snuffed the candles left on the banquet table, and moved silently upstairs. He stared at the woman lying in the bed. She had turned on to her side while he was away, her bare bottom facing him. It was nice and rounded, yet firm, and he caressed it gently as he slid on to the bed. He considered waking her for more sex, but instead slid next to her. He pulled the woollen blanket over them, and spooned behind her. 

He was a little envious of her life here. He could recall little of his life before joining the School of the Wolf to train as a Witcher. One memory he did have, and he clung to it like a drowning man would a boat, was sitting on the banks of a river being shown how to fish, his chubby little hands trying to attach the bait to the hook. He remembered the feeling of peace he felt, the simple happiness of just sitting and watching the clouds float by reflected on the water’s surface. 

In the time that he had been in Skyrim, he hadn’t been asked to leave an inn, he hadn’t had the local tough guy try to pick a fight to prove he was a bad ass then inevitably lose, and he hadn’t been spat on or jeered at. He had never been so ignored, and he liked it. 

With so many creatures threatening the life of the Continent’s inhabitants, Witchers were wholly necessary, but they were treated as less than human. They were outcasts due to the fear of what they were capable of. 

Geralt pulled the woman closer and rested his chin above her head and soothed by her slow regular breathing, he fell asleep with a rare smile on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, I would really appreciate it if you could leave kudos and a comment. Thank you


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia woke, the comforting and heavy weight of the Witcher’s arm across her hip, his chest hot against her back. She closed her eyes briefly, revelling in the sensation of having someone close. She had missed this feeling. 

She turned onto her back to look at her bed companion. Geralt was awake, and looking at her. His face didn’t seem quite so stern as it had yesterday, much more relaxed, younger even. She stretched and tensed her muscles causing Geralt to pull away from his embrace. She felt an ache in her nethers from the night before, and smiled in satisfaction. She turned her smile to Geralt. 

‘Good morning, Witcher,’ she mumbled as she stretched, then rolled onto her tummy, propped up on her elbows. 

‘Good morning, Dragonborn,’ he replied with a slight nod, one side of his mouth crooked in the hint of a smile. 

‘Did you sleep ok?’ 

‘I slept very well, thank you. Since I landed in Jehanna several weeks ago, I’ve spent too many days on the road. This is the comfiest bed I’ve slept in since I arrived in this land. In years, probably,’ his low voice rumbled. 

Selenia moved a hand and placed it on his chest, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the generous smattering of chest hairs that fascinated her so much. 

‘If you are not in a haste to leave, I could make us some breakfast. I have some fruit pastries left from my baking yesterday morning. They aren’t fresh, but will still be tasty. And I could brew some tea from dried blue mountain flower that is very restorative.’ 

He responded by grabbing her waist and pulling her on top of him, eliciting a small squeak of surprise. 

‘Food and drink later. That is not what I hunger for right now.’ 

His voice was deep and quiet, and as she was laid on top of him, she could feel it rumble in his chest as he spoke. It wasn’t the only thing she could feel as she felt his cock stir against her leg. Immediately, she was flushed with arousal. 

She leaned down to kiss him, his lips soft and sensual. She felt his large hands travel down her bare back and grasp her buttocks, squeezing them with a possessive growl and pressing her groin to him. 

Pushing against his chest, Selenia sat herself up, and straddled his hips, her pussy hovering just above his erection. She glanced down their bodies and saw him flex it, making it appear to be searching for her cunt. She lowered herself on the hot flesh, and sighed with pleasure as she once again felt delightfully full. 

She looked at her partner. He had a determined look in his eye and a wry smile on his perfect jaw that caused her to gulp once more in anticipation. She started to move her hips, raising and lowering herself on his flesh-covered steel. As she sank down to the very root, she rocked her hips, feeling his pubic bone grind against her clit. She kept up an agonisingly slow pace, relishing in the sensations. Geralt let go of her hips and moved his hands to cup her breasts. Selenia moaned in pleasure, and she placed her own hands over his to press them tighter against her. 

She leaned forward, and once he moved his hands, she dipped the tip of one breast in his mouth while continuing to rock her hips. Geralt suckled and nibbled at the sensitive peaks until Selenia was panting heavily, the sensation exquisite. 

Her lover became impatient of the torturously slow pace and slid his hands down to her hips, still suckling at her breast. She felt him lift her slightly, holding her above him, then hammered himself repeatedly with unbelievable stamina into her slick pussy. Each time he hit home, it caused Selenia to grunt, the only other sound being their sweat-covered flesh smacking into each other. Her grunts become longer until it became one long moan, her walls tightening on him. She felt him thrust once more, a roar of effort ripped from his mouth, then he shuddered and flooded her insides, quenching the fire that burned within. 

Selenia tried to speak, but her voice didn’t want to work, her wits addled, her blood ringing in her ears. She looked at the smug expression on the face of the Witcher, pleased at the desolation he had caused. 

_What sweet surrender._

He was as addictive as Skooma, and Selenia silently wished he wasn’t moving on. 

‘I’ll take those pastries and tea now,’ he demanded. 

When she looked at him in surprise at his demanding tone, he smiled at her and she knew it was a jest. It was a full genuine smile and it was devastating. 

~~~ 

As she had predicted, the pastries were delicious, and Geralt ate heartily of them. He even ate some of the cold stew from the night before. The tea was drinkable, though he didn’t enjoy it as much as Selenia appeared to. It was restorative, however. His activities of the night before and this morning had left him slightly drained, but after the tea and some meditation, he felt invigorated once more. 

Selenia had dressed in just her woollen dress, foregoing the bodice, and he watched as the material flowed over her curves as she served the food. As she stood next to him, pouring more tea, he grabbed her impulsively onto his lap, and kissed her. 

She yelped in surprise, but soon settled once his mouth engaged hers. If he was honest, his action had been as much of a surprise to him too. 

_What is this woman doing to me?_

‘Just how retired are you?’ he asked her. 

‘What do you mean?’ she smiled, draping an arm around his neck. 

‘I need to go to Bruma, you’ve spent time there. Your knowledge of the area, as well as your bow skills, could be very useful. I would like you to join me, if you are willing. I will of course give you half of the fee.’ 

_What are you doing, you fool?_

Geralt didn’t know why he had just asked the half elf to join him. Maybe he had been intoxicated by the exotic spicy scent she seemed to exude. He always worked alone. Other people just slowed him down, got in the way, or distracted him. And she was very distracting. 

It wasn’t just her beauty, or her body that distracted him. Her life fascinated him. He wanted to learn more of these Dragonborn powers she had, and there were traces of an old sorrow that he strangely felt compelled to dispel. 

Sat in his lap, her red eyes just blinked at him for a moment. He was convinced she would say no. She was settled here. She had a comfortable life here. Why would she put herself in danger for the sake of a stranger? She would surely decline. 

‘I would be honoured, Geralt, but I’m going to have to decline’ she finally answered. 

Despite his disappointment, he loved hearing her say his name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, then please leave kudos or a comment. Thanks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia was surprised by his request. Once she got over the shock, she considered it. 

Her life goal had always been to retire in this house, and live a peaceful life with Farkas, and hopefully a family. His death still affected her, and she would miss him every day for the rest of her life. Living here alone was just a shadow of the future she had dreamed of. In truth, she realised she wasn’t living, she was hiding. 

But she wasn’t sure she was ready to face the world just yet. 

After she had cleared away the breakfast things, she walked over to the huge map on the wall and showed Geralt the route he would need to take. 

‘You can head through the Jerall Mountains that mark the southern border of Skyrim via the Pale Pass. It’s risky, as there are occasional avalanches, but I think this late in the year, it will be cold enough up there for the snow to be stable.’ 

Geralt peered at the map. 

‘And where does the pass come out?’ 

‘The final stretch of the pass is an underground cave system, but I can draw you a map. There may be bandits hiding in there, or a few bears trying to get out of the cold, so you will need to keep our wits about you. It comes out in Cyrodiil at Serpent’s Trail, then it’s about a day’s ride from there to Bruma.’ 

‘Bears and bandits… no problem,’ he nodded 

‘I’m going to pack you some travel rations,’ and she headed towards the kitchen. 

‘Do any of the nearby towns have an apothecary? I am running low on a few essential ingredients for my potions,’ Geralt asked as he perused the map. 

Selenia hadn’t realised he used potions to fortify his magic. Fortunately, she used to do the same, and had never got out of the habit of keeping a stock of ingredients. 

‘Follow me,’ she instructed as she grabbed a large key off a shelf near the door. 

She led him out the front door, and down the path towards the lake shore. As the house was built on a hill, the front of the house was ground level, but the back was a story higher. At the back of the building was an unobtrusive door, and Selenia unlocked it and went inside. 

They were in a basement, the rough walls of the mountain along the back. Once a few sconces were lit, shelf after shelf was revealed containing dried herbs, funghi and other activators like feathers or pearls, and even a few exotic ones like a giant’s toenail. 

Selenia watched Geralt’s face as the room slowly revealed itself and their eyes become used to the dim light. He turned to her in amazement. 

‘I dabble,’ she offered as an explanation with a shrug. 

He started moving around the room, and brushed off a layer of dust and cobwebs from the mixing table. That corner was still dark, which meant her suspicion that his eyesight was enhanced was correct. She walked over and lit the nearby candles none the less. 

‘Do you think you can find what you need here?’ 

Geralt nodded slowly looking around. ‘I think I can.’ 

Selenia left him to it, and went back inside to gather him some rations. 

While she stuffed dried fruits, cereals and nuts into little pouches then into a larger saddlebag, she started to feel guilty about leaving him to navigate Pale Pass on his own. Maybe she should go with him. She had been feeling restless of late. Maybe it was time to stop hiding and face the world again. 

Spending time with Geralt was a bonus. 

Geralt came back in to the house, and seemed surprised when he noticed she had changed. 

‘If you don’t mind sharing Roach for a little while, there is a farm just a short ride south where I can probably buy a horse.’ 

‘You’ve changed your mind?’ he asked, his face unreadable. 

‘If the offer still stands.’ 

‘It does,’ he smiled. 

As they left the house, Selenia whistled loudly while Geralt got Roach saddled. After a few minutes, the large grey wolf Kodlak appeared. Selenia stroked the soft fine hairs of his head, and scratched around the thicker hairs of his neck and back, murmuring in elvish as she did so. Creatures of the forest always responded better to elvish than to the common tongue she found. 

She gave him two of the fish she had been drying above the kitchen fire. One he ate there and then in two snaps of his jaw, the other he carried off with him for his mate. 

When she saw Geralt raise a quizzical brow, she chuckled. 

‘I was just telling him to watch the place while we were gone.’ 

~~~ 

They arrived at Pinewatch farmstead shortly. She explained on the way there that several years ago she had fought and killed a nest of bandits that were holed up there to stop them trying to raid her home. A Falkreath family had taken it over a couple of years ago, and she was confident they would sell her a mount. 

Geralt had enjoyed her hands gripping his waist and the feel of her lithe thighs pressed against his, so he was slightly disappointed when she slipped off the back of Roach. He climbed down too, but stayed back so as not to startle the residents of this small farmhouse. 

A middle-aged man came out looking concerned until he recognised Selenia. 

‘By the nine!’ he exclaimed. ‘Greta! Come here!’ he yelled through into the dwelling then approached Selenia with a smile. 

‘My dear Selenia. We haven’t seen you in two seasons. We were worried,’ the farmer smiled. 

A small woman, similar in age to the farmer came from within, wiping her hands on an apron. She gasped in delight when she saw Selenia, and ran through several flustered hens to hug the elf. 

The farmer turned to Geralt, and he saw the man’s eyes widen in surprise as he took in the armour, the weapons and his unusual appearance, but there was no fear there. No hatred. Just surprise. He held out a hand in greeting, which Geralt shook with a grateful smile. 

‘Geralt of Rivia,’ he rumbled by way of an introduction. 

‘Well met, Geralt of Rivia. I am Addvar.’ 

‘What brings you here, Selenia?’ Greta asked. 

‘I was hoping you might have a horse or mule that I could buy from you. I am guiding my friend here to the Pale Pass and on to Bruma.’ 

Addvar scratched his head a moment. 

‘I do have a young mare you could have, but she is still quite flighty. She’s only recently been broken in.’ 

Addvar led them to a large and recently built stable. As they entered, a large ginger barn cat hissed at Geralt. 

‘Git,’ he hissed back, the creature dashing into the yard. 

Inside the stable were a couple of large black farm horses, with hooves the size of platters. Next to them were two much smaller mares, one roan, one almost white except for some grey dappling around the rump. 

The farmer grabbed some tack and pulled it over the head of the white horse which started to prance immediately. 

‘This is Eirid,’ he said. ‘And that is her dam, Breya,’ he added, nodding towards the roan who ignored them and carried on eating. 

He handed Selenia the reins to Eirid, who tossed her head with wide fearful eyes. 

Selenia stepped close to the young mare. She whispered quiet unintelligible words, and the horse calmed. It snorted softly, its breath warm on her hands, and Selenia rested her head against the forehead of the horse, the two of them sharing air. When they had done, Selenia fastened on the saddle, and led the white horse outside and it calmly followed. 

‘She has a way with animals,’ Addvar commented. 

‘You have no idea,’ Geralt replied with a gentle smile thinking of Kodlak. Geralt thought of his own bestial qualities, and she soothed them too. 

Selenia pulled out a purse from inside her jacket. ‘How much for the mare?’ 

‘For you, my friend, she is a gift. There is no charge.’ 

Selenia blushed. ‘Please, I cannot accept this. It’s too much. Let me give you some gold.’ 

Addvar shook his head. 

‘You gave us so much when we first came here,’ gushed Greta. ‘Without you, we would have not survived the first season. Truly.’ 

‘We owe you this at least.’ Addvar confirmed. 

Selenia looked more embarrassed. She turned pleading eyes to Geralt. He knew she didn’t want to deprive these struggling farmers of a horse without some recompense. 

‘The horse is actually for me,’ Geralt announced. 

He looked at Selenia. ‘You may owe this woman, but you owe me nothing, so I insist on paying you a fair price. I will be offended if you don’t accept payment.’ 

Selenia smiled at him in gratitude. The farmer scratched his head again as he thought over this new information. 

‘Well, we wouldn’t want to offend a strong gentleman like yourself.’ 

Selenia quickly handed over gold coins before he changed his mind, and the farmer smiled at them both before tipping them into his wife’s apron. 

‘You will stay for some refreshments before your journey,’ insisted Greta. 

‘We would love to, but we have to get to Neugrad before nightfall,’ Selenia explained. ‘But I do have one more favour to ask.’ 

‘Ask it, and if it is in our powers to give, it is yours,’ said Greta with a smile. 

‘Could someone maybe visit my home occasionally and put out fresh feed and water for the chickens and Lydia? That’s the cow’s name,’ Selenia added as an aside to Geralt. 

‘Of course! We can get our eldest lad to go over every couple of days. He’s 15 now, if you can believe it,’ answered Addvar proudly. 

‘I promise I will come visit when I return,’ Selenia thanked them. 

The couple seemed satisfied with that and waved as Geralt led Roach and Selenia led Eirid back towards the road. 

They mounted their respective horses, Roach nickering at the younger mare. 

‘Play nice,’ Geralt warned her. 

‘Aren’t you worried about the boy being attacked by Kodlak?’ 

Selenia shook her head. ‘He knows the difference between a boy and armed bandits.’ 

‘So what will we find at Fort Neugrad?’ he asked. 

Selenia took a swig of water from her flask, and offered him some. 

‘Last I heard, the fort was occupied by the Stormcloaks, the rebel faction I fought with during the revolution to remove the Imperial commanders of Skyrim. Now that their leader is the High King, I believe the fort is still manned as an important strategic location to ensure power is maintained.’ 

She tucked the flask back into her pack, and looked at her companion. 

‘However, I haven’t seen or spoken to any Stormcloaks in years, so let’s hope that we receive a warm welcome.’ 

Geralt and Selenia travelled for the next few hours in a comfortable silence. Neither of them felt the need to chatter to fill any awkward silences. Geralt had time to think about this morning. 

When he asked her to join him, he had instantly wished he could take it back, but he was now glad of whatever instinct it was that had made him make the offer. She was a good travelling companion. He didn’t feel that he had to protect her, he knew she could do that herself. She also didn’t feel the need for incessant chatter like Jaskier would. 

Her alchemy basement had had enough supplies in it to rival the one at his old school, Kaer Morhan. It had been just another in a long line of surprising things he was discovering about this woman, this Halfling. He knew she was a generous person, offering him shelter just because she had been able was evidence enough of that. Now, after hearing of her life saving donations to the farmers at Pinewatch and witnessing her obvious embarrassment at the gratitude, he couldn’t help comparing her to Yennefer. There was a time when Yennefer would have helped out another with no expectation of reward, but he wasn’t so sure about that these days. He was confident that she would have taken the horse and happily kept her gold. 

Annoyance flashed through him. He shouldn’t compare the two women. It was unfair to both of them. They had led different lives, and walked different paths. That said, Geralt had to acknowledge the main difference between them was that Selenia’s difficult past had not stolen her generosity, her compassion, or her humility. 

They stopped by a brook for a break to allow the horses to rest and drink. Selenia sat crossed legs atop a large rock and ate some of the dried venison she had brought. Geralt chewed some too as he watched the horses with mild amusement. Eirid seemed to have taken a shine to Roach, and followed the chestnut’s every move. 

‘Tell me,’ Selenia interrupted his thoughts. ‘Do you enjoy being a Witcher?’ 

He chewed thoughtfully for a second before responding. 

‘I can’t say that I enjoy it, but I get some satisfaction from it. I don’t really know anything else. I was raised to be a Witcher.’ 

‘What about your family? What did they do?’ 

‘I… I’m an orphan,’ he lied. 

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Selenia answered, showing genuine remorse. 

Geralt felt even worse for lying. He wasn’t sure why he lied, why he didn’t tell her that he had grown up assuming he was an orphan, only to find his sorceress mother alive and well. Maybe that was a tale for another day. 

‘I just wondered if you had ever gotten bored, or considered a different occupation,’ she continued. 

‘Being a Witcher isn’t an occupation, more of a vocation. It is who I am,’ he said sternly. He realised his tone was unnecessary since it was himself he was annoyed at, not her. It was only natural she was curious, because as usual, he had revealed little about himself where as Selenia had been open and honest. 

He sighed, and calmed his voice. 

‘I can tell you this, I am bored of how I’m treated. As a tool, a weapon… a monster.’ 

‘I’ve met monsters, Geralt, and fought them. You’re not a monster. They are mistaken. It sounds to me what you do is more of a protector.’ 

Geralt looked into her eyes, trying not to be captivated by them. He was struck by the vastly differing attitudes in this land to his Witcher status. Maybe it was because they didn’t truly know what Witchers were. 

‘Back on the Continent, Witchers are treated as less than human. We are outcasts due to the fear of what we are capable of. In order to kill monsters, they had to transform us into what many consider non-human. But there is always that fear that when the monsters are defeated, they will be left with the ones they created themselves.’ 

The sun was starting to set when they arrive at Fort Neugrad, and the temperature plummeted. Geralt was looking forward to a fire and a hot meal. 

On their arrival, they were approached by several guards carrying torches, with the head of a bear motif on their livery. Archers watched from above. Geralt had to fight every instinct, but following Selenia’s lead, he didn’t reach for his weapons. 

‘Take me to the fort’s commander. My name is Selenia Veleandas, and my companion is Geralt of Rivia.’ 

‘What business do you have with the commander?’ challenged one of the guards. 

‘That is my business. Just tell him… tell him Stormblade is here.’ 

A few of the guards gasped and there was frantic whispering between the few that crowded around them. Geralt was quickly losing patience. 

Two guards ran off and moments later, came back led by another man. The way the guards stood aside for him, he was clearly in charge. He was tall and muscular like many of the Nords, dark blond hung to his shoulders, the top fastened back in a braid. Even on this cold evening, he wore a sleeveless jerkin. Geralt was sure these people must have ice in their veins. 

He looked at them both. 

‘Well Talos preserve us!’ the man bellowed, then grabbed Selenia in a bear hug, grinning like a fool. 

Geralt tensed, but saw that Selenia, while being crushed, was smiling. 

‘Ralof! What are you doing here?’ she asked, her voice muffled by the man’s embrace. 

The man released her from his grip. ‘He left me in charge here for a bit. He figured I couldn’t get up to much trouble here at the arse end of the world,’ he laughed loudly. ‘But what about you? What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since Fort Snowhawk.’ 

Selenia looked to Geralt. 

‘This is my companion, Geralt of Rivia. I offered to guide him to Bruma’ 

Ralof held out a large hand. ‘Geralt! Well met.’ 

The man looked Geralt up and down. ‘I’ve never heard of Rivia. What land is that?’ 

‘It is across the sea, far from here. Far from Tamriel,’ Geralt explained. 

‘Well, any friend of Selenia’s is a friend of mine. You’re a big one, aren’t you? You sure you aren’t Nord?’ Ralof laughed, and clapped Geralt hard on the shoulder, before turning back to Selenia. With a gesture of his hand, someone ran forward and took the two horses. 

‘Come get some food you two. We can talk about Snowhawk. Ahhh, that was a great battle, wasn’t it?’ And he led Selenia away, the Nord’s arm around Selenia’s shoulders. Not used to jealousy, Geralt still recognised the dark feelings as it crept through him. 

‘So, killed any more dragons lately,’ he heard the Nord ask Selenia as he followed the two of them. 

Geralt didn’t hear her reply as he instead eavesdropped on two guards whispering nearby. His acute hearing meant he heard every word. 

‘Do you know who that is? That woman is Stormblade, the Dragonborn,’ said the first guard. 

‘Nah, it can’t be. I thought she lived in a palace up North with King Ulfric?’ replied his friend. 

‘What are you talking about? No, this is her. My uncle fought in the battle for Whiterun. He told me she was an elf with red eyes. That’s her alright.’ 

‘Wow,’ his friend conceded. ‘That’s a true hero of the land right there. Wait until I tell my missus. She won’t believe it.’ 

Geralt watched Selenia chat amiably with Ralof, and at the way the rest of the Stormcloak guards eyed her with wonder and reverence. He really was in the presence of a celebrity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, then please could you leave kudos and/or a comment. Many thanks


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia felt happier than she had in a long time. She had met  Ralof many years ago, when she first arrived in Skyrim. He was the one who had helped her escape  Helgen and the dragon,  Alduin . He was also one of the most respected  Stormcloaks , and a right-hand man to  Ulfric now it seems. 

Her belly was full and she sat in front of a fire, a cup of mead in her hand, and watched the reflection of the fire in  Geralt’s golden eyes. 

Ralof was telling Geralt all about their battle to take Fort  Snowhawk , and by his telling, her and  Ralof had basically taken the fort between the two of them. She smiled at her old friend and his exuberant story-telling. It was good to see him. 

The mead and the heat of the fire were making her sleepy, and she stifled a yawn, but  Ralof spotted it.

‘Listen to me blethering on! Let me take you to your room. It’s not fancy, we had to convert the old prison into barracks, but its private and the bed’s comfortable.’

Ralof led them to a room across the courtyard. 

‘Come see me before you leave on the morrow,’ he said and opened the door to their room. 

There was a large bed, a small chest of drawers, and a night stand with a bowl and jug of water, along with soap and a cloth. There was a small table and two chairs in front of the fire, and a bottle of wine sat atop the mantel. 

Selenia stood on her tip toes, and kissed the huge Nord on the cheek. 

Once their host had gone, she smiled at Geralt. 

‘It seems you’re still famous,’ he teased.

She grinned. ‘Not really. Most of the stories about me are probably not even true.’

‘I’ m yet to meet a person that isn’t pleased to see you. It’s an unusual thing to experience.’

Selenia chuckled, then stepped close to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. 

‘I’m pleased to see you, ’ she added, before stifling another yawn. 

‘To bed with you, woman,’ Geralt ordered gently.

Selenia was more than happy to comply. She stripped off her armour, and once nude, climbed on the bed under the furs. She lay on her side,  exhausted. 

She felt Geralt slide into bed, and spooned behind her. She closed her eyes, a smile on her face, and fell asleep.

~~~

Geralt woke about an hour or two after they had gone to bed, as he heard an all too familiar whooshing sound. He opened his eyes to see Yennefer walk out of a portal into the room. 

‘What are you doing here, Yennefer?’ he asked quietly.

A slender brunette, dressed in leather pants and a  black  velvet jacket and bodice, walked over to the mantle and opened the bottle of wine. She sniffed, then grimaced and put it back.  Geralt’s heart beat faster. This woman always ruffled his feathers. He sat up in the bed.

‘Who’s the woman?’ she asked.

‘My question first,’ he growled, hoping he didn’t have to fight Yennefer to protect Selenia.

The sorceress looked again at the sleeping form. A tiny pointed tip of an ear protruded through the mass of dark hair. 

‘She’s an elf!’ the woman exclaimed loudly.

Geralt didn’t want Selenia woken and have these two women meet. ‘Yennefer,’ he growled threateningly.

She pouted. ‘I just came to check up on you. You’re a long way from home, Geralt.’

‘Like you care,’ he grumbled.

‘I do care, Geralt,’ she replied, her tone soft. ‘Just because I don’t want to play house with you doesn’t mean I don’t care.’ She walked over to him, and ran a finger along the tip of his broad shoulder and down his chest until he swatted her hand away. 

‘Just not enough to give up your power plays and schemes though, eh?’ He was angry that she assumed she could, literally, walk into his life whenever she felt like it.

‘So who is the woman?’ she asks again , her eyes flashing with annoyance .

He had no intention of telling the sorceress anything. She had had her chance to be a part of his life, and she ’d walked away. 

‘None of your business. Just leave, Yennefer. And don’t come back.’

With that, he laid down and spoon ed behind Selenia, an arm draped over her sleeping form , the scent of her calming his anger . 

‘Come home, Geralt,’ the sorceress made  a  final plea. 

Geralt ignored her.  Seconds later, he hear d a whoosh as the portal closes. He resist ed the temptation to see if Yennefer ha d left or not, and close d his eyes.

Yennefer was his past. He had to choose his future. He pulled the elf closer to him, and wondered if that future involved Selenia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving kudos or a comment. Cheers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

When she woke, Selenia smiled at the comforting weight of Geralt’s arm heavy across her waist. She could hear him snoring softly, and feel the heat from his bare chest as she snuggled back against him, the chest hairs tickling her skin. 

To her slight annoyance, he must have kept his breeches on when he climbed into bed, as she could feel the material over his groin tickling the curve of her buttocks. 

Due to her curled-up position, she could feel the bulk of his genitals as she pressed against him, right at her opening. She tilted her hips back and forth slowly, grinding closer with each movement. The rough material of surrounding his groin provided some stimulation but did nothing to relieve the ache building between her legs. 

After a minute of the agonisingly slow grinding, she felt him begin to enlarge, his member pushing through the front slit opening of his breeches, as if seeking sanctuary within the depths of her pussy. Her breathing became shallower and faster the more aroused she became. The tip of his hard cock was now rubbing along her slit, spreading her nectar and its own juices. 

She didn’t know when it happened, but she suddenly noticed Geralt wasn’t snoring anymore. She froze, and turned her head to look back over her shoulder. In the dim pre-dawn light, red eyes stared into yellow ones. 

As soon as their gaze met in some silent and raw invitation, his arm grabbed her hips and thrust forward, impaling her. Even though she was primed, the sudden expanse took her breath away. Consumed by a primal instinct, she thrust back against him as he drove himself into her at a frenetic pace. 

The need that had been growing within, peaked, and the pleasurable crescendo flooded her whole body with light and energy. She whimpered softly and shuddered as he filled her void with a few final and brutal thrusts. 

She could feel him twitch within her, responding to the fluttering muscles of her core. Once she felt his member shrink and begin to slip out, she rolled onto her back to look at her lover. 

She kissed him, his lips warm and soft. He remained on his side, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over her stomach and the valley between her breasts. 

‘So who’s Yennefer?’ she asked. 

His fingers paused for a second, then continued. 

‘Yennefer is a sorceress of great skill and influence. She has used her abilities to shape the future of nations, and thrives on power and control. We… we were lovers for many years, but no longer.’ 

‘Do you love her?’ Selenia asked, strangely nervous of his response. 

Geralt took a deep breath and sighed. 

‘I did love her. In my own way. But that has faded. Our fates were once bound together, but she used her magic to undo it,’ 

He looked directly in her eyes. ‘I still care for Yennefer, despite how angry I may appear towards her, but only as a dear friend. Like you, I had intended to retire from my life, to try and live a relatively normal life and I asked her to join me.’ 

Geralt’s gaze drifted then, staring blankly at nothing. Selenia assumed his mind’s eye was replaying some long past conversation. 

‘She refused,’ he continued. ‘In fact, she actually laughed at the idea.’ 

‘You could still find love elsewhere,’ Selenia croaked, her voice full of emotion. 

‘I’m not even sure that I can feel the kind of love a woman wants. I’m not sure it's something I’m capable of feeling.’ 

Selenia reached up a hand, and cupped his face, her heart full of affection for this man. They too were alike in many ways. Both were tired of the horrors in the world, and just sought some small happiness in their final days. 

Geralt’s dancing fingers drifted over a nipple, causing it immediately to pucker. As if the breast had a direct connection to her pussy, she felt it twitch as desire started to build again. 

Her desire was not alone, as Geralt bent his head to suckle the small crest, to nibble it causing Selenia to sigh beneath him, a hand tangled in his hair. 

He released her breast with a wet plop. He rummaged under the furs removing his underclothes, before climbing over her, his weight supported by his elbows. Selenia gladly parted her knees letting his hips settle against hers, his thick cock sliding into her soaking wet core. She placed her hands on his shoulders and drew her knees up further, gaining him access to her most secret depths. 

He moved above her, their hips in a slow sensual dance. Selenia lost herself in the sensations. They both panted, their breath becoming faster as the tempo of their lovemaking increased. Geralt stared into her eyes, and like molten gold they burned into her. All restraint gone, he pounded into her, driving all other thoughts from her head. The only sensation she was aware of was his hot lips against her neck and his thick cock in her cunt. 

As she came, she felt her inner muscles clutch him fiercely, threatening to lock them together indefinitely as her soul shattered into a thousand pieces. 

As they came down from their high, he kissed her with such gentleness and tenderness her heart sang with longing. 

~~~ 

  
As they dressed, Geralt considered all he had revealed to Selenia about himself, and about Yennefer. He wasn’t usually so forthcoming with his thoughts. He had spoken more this last two days than he had in the last two months. 

Ralof walked them to the gates of the fort, and mentioned he had added more supplies to their packs, including a couple of furs. 

‘You’ll need them up in those mountains,’ he explained. 

Ralof shook Geralt’s hand firmly. ‘Look after her,’ the usually jovial Nord said to Geralt, his grip tightening and his voice was laced with the hint of a threat. 

‘I intend to,’ Geralt replied. The two men held each other’s gaze a second longer, before Ralof turned to Selenia with a smile, and scooped her up in another bear hug. 

‘Come see me soon, Stormblade. We shall get drunk and tell stories, and sing of heroic deeds past.’ 

Selenia laughed, and promised to return. 

They headed out and Selenia led them both into the pass. The snow got thicker and the incline a little steeper. In the distance, a wolf howled. 

Geralt was grateful for the furs as the higher they climbed the colder it became. To distract himself from the loss of feeling in his fingers, he decided to question Selenia about her abilities. 

‘Tell me more about your Dragonborn powers. Do you still use magic?’ 

Selenia blinked at him in surprise, clearly not expecting any questions. 

‘I barely use my elf magic except to light the cooking fires at home. I haven’t used the skills I learned as the Dragonborn in years. I presume I can still use the _thu’um_. The words of power are still in my head, but… I think since they are linked to the dragons, they may have weakened since the dragons disappeared.’ 

The wind picked up and blew loose snow around them. 

‘I don’t suppose any of them can improve this weather, can they?’ he asked sarcastically. 

Selenia nodded with a grin. ‘I can try.’ 

She closed her eyes. ‘ _LOK VAH KOOR_!’ she shouted. The shout hadn’t sounded like her voice. It had seemed to come from elsewhere, spoken by something far more ancient. As the shout echoed around them in the passage, the air immediately around them stilled. The icy wind moved around above them, leaving them untouched as if in some sort of bubble. 

‘I don’t know how long it will last, but I can just keep activating it if it fades,’ she explained. 

Geralt was grateful. The feeling started to return to his fingers almost immediately. 

He had been around magic his whole life, and he had never felt or witnessed anything like he had just seen the elf perform. It was an ancient magic, and distinctly not human or elven. 

‘How is it that you can perform this dragon magic?’ he asked. 

Selenia shook her head. ‘I don’t really know. The dragons called me Dragonborn, they said I had dragon blood within me, but I don’t know how that is possible. These words of power are spoken in the dragon tongue, yet I instinctively seem to know what they will do. Some part of me that I can’t consciously tap in to understands the dragon tongue.’ 

‘So you were born with these abilities?’ he pressed. 

‘Possibly, but they were latent until the arrival of Alduin. It was the Greybeards and another dragon called Parthanax that taught me to wield them.’ 

‘You were taught by a dragon?’ he interrupted. ‘I thought you fought against the dragons.’ 

‘I did, but Parthanax was different, sympathetic towards men. He was an old enemy of Alduin’s and he was responsible for first teaching humans the _thu’um_ , giving them the tools to defeat Alduin.’ 

They travelled further in companionable silence until they stopped for a rest. Selenia gave the horses some oats, and Geralt pulled some rations from their packs. 

‘You mentioned before that Witchers can potentially lose their emotions during Witcher training. Is that why people think you are emotionless?’ she asked, that now familiar curious expression on her face. 

‘Witchers are as emotionless as our upbringings make us,’ he explained. ‘Isolated from the world from early childhood, put through harsh training, genetic and magical mutation, watching our peers die around us—we are taught self-control as an essential tool of survival. How else could we turn out?’ 

‘A life of suppressed emotions sounds lonely.’ 

Geralt thought more about what she asked. ‘I feel emotions. I feel anger, I feel hatred, I feel the loss of a friend, and I feel pleasure in the arms of a lover. These are all emotions.’ 

‘Just not love?’ she asked. 

‘Not yet,’ he answered. 

‘Well, I for one admire you, Witcher. To be a creature created to protect a people that more often than not treat you like what comes out of the south end of a northbound horse, it’s no wonder that Witchers end up so cynical. Even if your emotions were not dulled by the processes of your training, they would be by the constant wear of the life of a despised man who nonetheless serves the people who spit after him as he walks away. I’m proud to have met you, Geralt.’ 

As they moved on, Geralt slowed Roach, and let Selenia pull ahead on Eirid. He stared in confusion at the woman that had somehow seen more of his soul in just a few short days than people he had known for a lifetime. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, I would really appreciate a kudos or comment. Thanks x


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia  continued to  reactivate her magic that calmed the weather around them as they  picked their way ever higher up the pass . Their plan was to push on to some ruins that lay near the entrance to the underground caverns and make camp there. She explained  that it could be too dangerous to  sleep in the caverns.

Despite the weather suppression, Selenia still felt cold. She hugged the furs  Ralof gave her around her shoulders, and silently sent a thank you to her old friend. She glanced  back  at Geralt who seemed to be doing similar, his expression set in his unusual scowl. 

At the old fort ruins, they worked well together to set up camp, neither getting in each other’s way. Geralt went to get wood for a fire, and  by the time he got back  Selenia had  untacked and tethered both horses who were now happily munching on oats. 

The ruins were of an old Imperial fort, the former overlords of  Skyim , much of its walls were now taken down by avalanches. Nature had started to reclaim the land, as even in this brutal environment, hardy bushes and small trees grew, even a few snowberries. 

Geralt got a small fire going in a sheltered corner that afforded them some coverage from the elements. Selenia placed the cook pot over the flames and started to assemble a meal. 

Selenia glanced at Geralt. He had still not spoken since their conversation about his emotions, and when she caught him looking at her, he had a strange indiscernible look in his eyes. She was starting to get concerned she had offended him somehow. 

After their meal, she made them a hot tea. Selenia drank hers, but Geralt seemed to just hold his mug as he stared into the flames. She shrugged. He obviously had something on his mind, and decided to leave him be to work it out.

She pulled out the bed rolls and laid  each of  them close to the fire rather than side  by side, each with a fur to cover them with. She stripped her outer layers quickly, but left on some linen underwear and  a  vest and scurried under her fur with a shudder. 

‘Should one of us keep watch,’ he finally spoke. ‘Are there  necrophages or anything around we should watch out for?’

Selenia was n’t sure what a  necrophage was. ‘We should be fine. With the horses and your hearing, I would be surprised if anything could sneak up on us.’

‘Not even wolves?’ he asked.

Selenia chuckled softly. ‘Wolves won’t come near us while  I’ m with you . Trust me.’

She saw Geralt  shrug, then  swallow his tea in two gulps. It must have been cold by now. He removed his weapons and outer armo u r and then dragged his bedroll so that it was next to hers. It meant that Selenia was between him and the fire, but once he was under his fur, he snuggled behind her. 

Selenia’s heart swelled. His arm wrapped around her waist under the furs, and pulled her close, almost possessively, his face buried into the back of her hair. She closed her eyes, and revelled in the warmth of their close contact. Her brain played tricks on her, cruelly reminding her that he would be gone once his contract was completed. Her heart thundered for a second, and a chill fluttered her stomach. It had only been a few days, but she was already so comfortable with these sleeping arrangements. Sleeping alone again would be hard.

~~~

Geralt was awoke n by an unearthly bellow that sounded too close for comfort. He glanced over at the horses, and they were prancing and pulling against their tethers, their eyes wide and fearful. Something was out in the dark.

He looked at Selenia who sat up immediately , her face ashen . 

‘Ogre,’ she whispered, and passed him his swords.

The ogre bellowed again. Closer. He glanced at his armour and knew he didn’t have time to put it on. 

‘Stay here,’ Selenia hissed.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ he growled back.

‘Have you ever fought an ogre before?’ she  snapped . He could see she was not prepared to wait for an answer and ran into the dark. The fire had gone out, and it was a new moon, so even with his enhanced vision he lost her in the dark quickly. 

_ Fool elf! _

She was dressed in only her  underwear  and hadn’t even taken her bow. He presumed she intended to use her magic, but would that be enough? How big was an ogre?

_ Fuck it! _

He decided to ignore her command and headed in the direction he heard the ogre. He kept his ears strained for the sound of  nearby  movement, hoping to hear Selenia.

All he heard was an answering challenge to the ogre from a wolf. His adrenalin had stopped him from noticing the cold, but he felt a chill pass through him when he heard the  bloodcurdling howl. It was close, and he wondered about  Selenia’s claims he was safe from wolves. He had seen her control of  Kodlak , so had had no reason to doubt her. Until now. 

The ground started to shake, and he could make out the huge shape of the ogre running towards his position. He froze. His heart and blood pumping loud in his ears, and he gripped his sword tightly in readiness. The ogre was huge. Easily the height of three men. Its arms were as thick as his body, its fingers the thickness of his arms. 

When it reached two lengths away from him, Geralt lifted his sword to take a swing at the creature when something else darted out of the darkness and knocked the ogre to the ground. 

This new assailant was as tall as a man, ran on two legs, but looked like a black wolf. 

_ A werewolf! _

‘Fuck!’ Geralt exclaimed. He now had two creatures to fight, and still no idea where Selenia was. He couldn’t worry about her now, and trusted she had enough abilities to keep herself safe. 

Geralt ran towards the two fighting monsters, dodging a swing of the ogre’s club by sliding under its arc as it tried to defend itself from the werewolf. The wolf pounced on the chest of the floored ogre; its large head turned briefly towards him. It had red glowing eyes, and growled a warning at him. It was almost as if the werewolf was staking a claim to the ogre. 

Geralt held his sword at the ready, but decided to conserve his energy to fight whoever won this battle. He wasn’t entirely sure which one he was rooting for. 

The werewolf proceeded to rend the ogre’s chest with its lethal claws , and h uge teeth ripped at flesh . The ogre howled in pain, but swiped a large fist  at the  were wolf sending it rolling back with a pained yelp .  The wolf landed with a thud, and didn’t move. Geralt watched, waiting to see if it would get back up. It didn’t.

The ogre was really pissed, and it turned its huge head towards Geralt.  The monstrous  being  stood up and swayed slightly, then grabbed its club and immediately tried to flatten Geralt with it. 

Fortunately, Geralt dodged backwards, but he felt the tremors close by when the tip of the club landed. He quickly signed  _ igne _ , setting the ogre’s face  and hair  alight. It screamed and swiped at the flames with a giant palm. He rushed the ogre, slicing across the tree trunk-sized thigh. It howled again. 

‘How do you like silver, eh?’ he yelled. 

Geralt spun ready to take another slash, but the ogre was faster than he realised. The Witcher went to flank him, but the ogre twisted his massive frame and snatched Geralt off the ground.

Geralt struggled for air as the ogre squeezed him in a huge fist . Another minute and his ribs would break, his lungs crush. 

Vicious snarling came from behind him and the werewolf he had presumed dead was alive and kicking. The beast lunged at the ogre’s throat and gripped hard with powerful jaws. The ogre dropped Geralt, winding him. As he lay there grasping for breath, the ogre staggered backwards, trying to pull the werewolf off his throat. Eventually, it was successful, the werewolf pulled off his throat. However, the jaws still had hold of the ogre’s flesh. The ogre’s trachea hung limp from the wolf’s bloody maw. 

There was a pained gurgling, and the ogre dropped to his knees clutching futilely at his throat. With a final deathly rattle, the ogre face planted the ground dead. Geralt watched for a second to ensure it was really dead, until his attention snapped towards movement to his left.

The werewolf.

He scrambled to his feet, his sword ready, but his jaw dropped when he saw not a bloody slathering beast, but Selenia. His travelling companion stood in the faint light of the ogre’s still burning hair, naked, with blood stains around her mouth, dripping gore down her chin. She wiped her face on the back of her hand.

‘There’s something I haven’t told you yet,’ she said meekly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter - if you did, please leave a kudos or comment. Thanks


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia sat in the camp, one of the furs pulled around her naked body. She watched Geralt as he checked on the horses and tried to settle them. He had dropped his sword in shock when he had realised she was the werewolf, and as he picked it up, for a moment she was convinced he would attack her. 

He hadn’t spoken to her yet. He didn’t even say anything when she had stopped on the short walk back to the camp to wash the blood from her face and arms in the snow. When she approached their camp, he was dressing, his back turned to her. 

She was convinced this revelation would signal the end of their friendship. He was a Witcher, trained to kill monsters. Werewolves were considered monsters in Skyrim, so she was fairly confident that they would be in his homeland too. 

Selenia decided to relight the fire and make some tea, more for something to do than from any need to quench her thirst. 

Geralt sat on the opposite side of the fire to her, and stared. The sun was starting to come up, the first few rays of light reaching towards them over the top of the ruined walls of the fort. His expression was unreadable. She wished he would just say what he needed to say. 

‘Go on then… ask,’ she told him miserably. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked, his voice deep and quiet, but there was an unmistakable edge. 

‘Because when I offered you shelter when we first met, I never expected us to sleep together. I thought you’d leave the next morning and that would be that. But then you asked me to join you, and yes, I should have told you then, but I knew that we would be together only a handful of days, and I wanted to spend some time with you. And not have you look at me the way you are doing now.’ 

His eyes looked away. She watched Geralt pick up a small piece of firewood, and absently poke the growing embers. 

‘I didn’t think you would have to see me like that,’ she continued quietly. ‘It doesn’t just happen. I control it. But I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t think I would… that I could feel…’ her words broken by a sob. 

Geralt looked at her again, his eyes softer this time. 

‘Earlier today, before we made camp, I was marvelling at the fact that in only a few short days you knew me better than some who have known me for decades,’ he admitted. ‘You’ve questioned me about my life, and I’ve been uncommonly revealing,’ he shook his head. ‘Yet even with those little morsels of information, you’ve intuitively seen more. I’ve never met anyone that understands me as well as you do. And I think I understand why now.’ 

He threw the wood onto the flames. 

‘It occurs to me that I don’t know you nearly half as well. And that is my fault. And it’s not that I don’t want to know… I do. It’s just I’m just not very good at asking the right questions.’ 

He moved around to sit next to her, and Selenia tensed feeling strangely vulnerable. 

‘Don’t you hate it when people call us monsters when all we’re trying to do is help them?’ he asked with a smile. ‘I confess that was my first reaction, and for that I apologise. I treated you no better than the common folk of the Continent treat me. You deserve better.’ 

He took one of her hands, and Selenia stared at how pale and small it looked in his. Her heart was thundering in her chest. Her confusion must have been evident on her face. 

Geralt chuckled. A sound that Selenia was sure he didn’t make often. 

‘Did you expect me to kill you?’ he asked, looking mildly amused. 

Selenia nodded. ‘You’re a Witcher. It’s in your nature.’ 

Geralt sighed. ‘I try not to kill my friends. I have a friend who is a vampire, yet I have killed many of their kind.’ He looked down at their hands. ‘Not all my friends are human. Hell, I once was inhabited by a juggling ghost at a wedding.’ 

At Selenia’s raised brows, he chuckled. ‘Long story. Anyway, once I’d stopped being an idiot, I realised that you’d revealed a great secret to me, something that makes you vulnerable, and you did it to protect me. I’m used to being the protector. No one has ever stepped in front of me before. You’re beautiful, brave and kind, and I’m proud to call you friend.’ 

‘Huh,’ grunted Selenia bitterly. ‘Friend? Okay. I guess that’s all we are.’ 

Selenia instantly regretted her tone. It felt longer, but she had known Geralt mere days. She was confused by her feelings for Geralt, what they were, and why they were so strong after such a short time. She couldn’t expect him to be any different. 

Geralt let go of her hand, and put his arm around her shoulder. She was pulled to him as he laid back, and she lay with her head rested on his chest. He adjusted the fur so that she was covered, and kissed the top of her head. 

‘My feelings for you are… complicated. Can we just call it friends? For now?’ 

Selenia lifted her eyes to look at his golden eyes gleaming in the dawn light, and smiled. 

She nodded. ‘For now.’ 

She snuggled against him, feeling him embrace her tightly and inhale the scent of her, then relax. 

‘Was you expecting me to smell like wet dog?’ she joked. 

He chuckled softly. Relief flooded her mind and body that he appeared to take it all so well, and she finally relaxed. 

‘I thought the ogre had done for you when he battered you with those huge fists. Are you ok?’ He mentioned. 

‘Yes, just a few bumps and bruises. I heal quickly though.’ 

Her stomach rumbled. Loudly. 

‘Gosh, I’m so sorry,’ she apologised, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. ‘The change… it takes a lot of energy. I’m always starving afterward.’ 

Geralt laughed and sat up. ‘Get dressed, Selenia, and I will make us some breakfast.’ 

He went to the packs and rummaged amongst their rations. 

‘With you being naked, I’m not sure how much longer I could have laid there anyway without taking advantage of you. You said it would take a most of a day to get through the caves, so we should probably get going instead of staying here and fucking like rabbits.’ 

Selenia gaped at him as he grinned. Even after all he had said, she was surprised he still wanted to sleep with her, knowing what she was. 

She saw him toss some oats and water into a pot to make porridge and even added in some of the dried berries Selenia had packed. Her stomach rumbled again, spurring her on to dress. 

~~~ 

After they broke camp, it was a short ride to the cave system entrance. The opening was quite large, and lethal looking icicles hung from the top of the entrance. Geralt eyed them nervously as they passed underneath. If one of them fell, they would spear a man clean through. Once inside, Selenia started to tear up a couple of the empty oat bags. 

‘Wrap Roach’s hooves in these to cut down on the noise. Hopefully, we will get through unimpeded, but if there is something in there, we need to be as quiet as possible so keep your eyes and ears sharp,’ she instructed Geralt. 

He nodded, thinking about the ogre they had faced during the night, and proceeded to wrap Roach’s hooves much to the mare’s displeasure, while Selenia did Eirid’s. 

The cave system was long and winding, and they travelled in silence, their senses attuned to the slightest noise. Every care was taken to tread without sound. Even breathing was done with care. Despite his Witcher sight, Geralt was still struggling to see. The cave was in complete darkness save for the faint light of an occasional luminescent funghi in the pitch dark, He reached into his jacket and took out a small vial of a potion that allowed him to see in total darkness. When he swallowed the potion, his eyes went black, and his skin deathly pale. He was glad that Selenia couldn’t see him. 

He watched the elf, now able to see her perfectly. She moved with the stealth of a predator; her feet completely noiseless. She led Eirid with one hand, the other rested on the axe at her waist. Her bow was hanging from her back. She was, he now realised, literally armed to the teeth. He could safely say he had never met any woman like her. He had come across few women warriors back home. Cirri, his protégé, was a lot like Selenia; a warrior that combined magic and weapons skill. Both of them would have made excellent Witchers. Except Selenia had another tool in her armoury. She was a werewolf. 

He had so many questions, but as yet, not had an opportunity to ask. Once they were out of this forsaken cave, he intended to find out. 

He had killed several werewolves over the years, but usually because they were slaughtering villagers. Knowing that most people would consider her a monster should they know her secret explained how she understood his mistreatment by people of the Continent so well, how they made him feel like as much of a monster as those he hunted. 

He had had a hard time believing her when she had said she didn’t see him as a monster, but he finally understood. If he didn’t perceive her as a monster, why should he doubt her when she likewise didn’t see him as one? In his long life, Geralt had met and befriended many that would be considered monsters. Years ago, Geralt had been hunting a dragon, but met him in human form, and discovered he was just defending his young. He conversed with the dragon, and since that day, Geralt had refused to kill another, despite the fact they were viewed as monsters. 

Their route took them through a few twists and turns within the caverns. Geralt found it disorientating, but Selenia had been confident she knew the way. There were occasionally signs of animal and human habitation. They even passed through one cavern that had so many of the luminescent fungi that in combination with his potion-enhanced vision, it could have almost been daylight. 

They had been travelling for hours, and Geralt was starting to feel the mental exhaustion of the constant vigilance. He became complacent, his mind wander, and was surprised when Selenia stopped in front of him, and signalled him to hold. 

She pointed ahead, and a large lump that he had assumed was a rock formation moved. A large head lifted and Geralt saw it was a huge bear. The bear yawned and let out a warning grumble. It was sleepy, and annoyed that something had disturbed its hibernation. 

The horses started to pull against their reigns, and despite the covered hooves, their feet were making enough noise to rouse the bear. 

Selenia handed Geralt the reigns to Eirid, lifted her bow, and took an arrow from her quiver. She knelt as she knocked an arrow in a single fluid movement, and aimed at the bear. The huge animal was stood on its hind legs, roaring in their direction. As the huge maw opened, Selenia fired. Her arrow flew into the mouth and pierced through into the brain, killing the bear instantly. 

_Good move_. 

The hide of the bear was so thick, it would have taken several shots to do enough organ damage to slay the creature. 

She turned to him, and whispered. ‘We’re almost there.’ 

In the dim light, he stared at Selenia. Her beauty in his potion-enhanced monochrome sight was breath-taking. She looked like a living statue, startlingly beautiful and her eyes appeared even more strange and ethereal, but did nothing to detract from her beauty. The pupils had expanded and her eyes looked almost as black as he knew his were right now. 

When he looked at the skin on his hands, he could see the blackened veins caused by the potion starting to fade as the potion wore off. Hopefully, it would last until they got out of the caves. He longed to see the sky. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia squinted as she approached the cave opening. Though the opening was not large, the sun outside was beginning to set, so it was low enough to shine directly towards her now light-sensitive eyes. 

She looked at Geralt who was squinting similarly, and smiled. Squinting or scowling, she still thought he was handsome. 

Once out in the open, Selenia closed her eyes and lifted her face to be warmed by the last rays of the sun, quashing the chill of the damp caves from her bones. The path out of the cave was steep and wound through a snowy forest. The sky was cloudless, and a chill wind that was strong enough to whip up the loose snow scattered on the forest floor in swirls and eddies around their feet. Selenia was once again grateful for the furs Ralof gave them. 

It was only a couple of hours ride to the walled city of Bruma, so before they followed the path, they stopped for some food and to rest the horses just outside the cave entrance. 

Selenia went to gather some wood for a small fire. There was plenty lying around. Even though it woud be damp, her magic would get it burning. 

Once she had some flames going, she put on some water to make tea. Geralt had spread out their bedrolls to sit on next to the mountain face on the other side of the fire, and was sat sharpening his swords. Once tea was made, they sat close to each other on the bedrolls, sharing body heat and leaning against the rocks. Geralt handed her a couple of pouches, one containing the dried meat, the other some nuts and dried berries. Their rations were low, but Selenia was confident they could restock in Bruma before the return journey. 

Her heart thundered, and her stomach rolled with dread at the thought of the return. Heading back north meant saying good bye. 

Lost in their thoughts, they ate in silence as the moon rose, and the sky darkened. 

Rest over, they set the horses along the path and made their way towards Bruma. The moon was bright, and the trees leafless, so they had enough light to navigate by. 

‘We never really got to talk about last night,’ she said with a nervous smile. ‘I imagine you have questions.’ 

Geralt looked at her from a top Roach, his white hair stark in the moonlight, his golden eyes unreadable. 

‘I do, but I didn’t want to be rude.’ 

‘No, please! Ask away,’ she encouraged. 

‘How did it happen?’ 

Selenia sighed, and stared up at the stars. 

‘Years ago, I met a group called the Companions when I first arrived in Whiterun. They were a team of mercenaries you could say, though they kept mostly on the right side of the law.’ 

‘And that’s where you met your husband?’ 

‘Yes, that’s where I met Farkas,’ she smiled sadly. 

‘It transpired that he, amongst others in the Companions that wore a wolf emblem on their armour, not dissimilar to yours actually, were werewolves,’ she continued. ‘Once I had proved myself, I was asked if I wanted to join. In my homeland, my tribe’s totem was the wolf, and my mother’s name meant “wolf women”, in our tongue. The wolf was a potent symbol, one I identified with. A wolf is strong, fierce, loyal, and works for the benefit of the pack. So I agreed.’ 

Geralt fingered the silver emblem around his neck. ‘I wear this to indicate the Witcher school I trained in. Kaer Morhen is known as School of the Wolf. Because of my hair, I got the nickname “the White Wolf”.’ 

‘The Companions weren’t bestial like the wild werewolves that can be found roaming some of Skyrim’s forests,’ she explained. ‘We keep our wits, our thoughts and feelings. We are very much in control. Think of it like wearing armour.’ 

Geralt shrugged. ‘I think I understand.’ 

‘In wolf form, I’m faster, stronger and I heal quicker. Even in my natural form, lycanthropy has given me these abilities, though to a lesser degree than when in wolf form. The healing ability can make one long lived, and since I am part elf, and already long lived, I seem to be aging slowly. I realise now what seemed like a blessing at first is probably a curse. I am destined to be alone, those I care for dying long before me.’ 

Her thoughts slipped to the rest of the Companions that had fought alongside her against Alduin. They were all dead, or old now, the Companions little more than a footnote in the history of Whiterun. 

~~~ 

Geralt considered Selenia’s words. Witchers were long lived too, he himself had lived well over a century. In all the year’s he had travelled the Path, he had seen familiar faces grow old and die, so he understood all too well. 

They arrived at the gates of Bruma, and he let Selenia talk to the guards. She managed to persuade them to let them in, though they gave Geralt a mean stare as he went by. 

Large grey stone walls wrapped around the city, with intermittent watch towers. Once through the gates, the city was laid out around a network of cobbled streets, and buildings made of the same grey stone as the walls. Towering over everything, he could see a huge cathedral. 

‘It’s the Chapel of St Martin, but long ago, before the White Gold Concordat, it was the Great Chapel of Talos,’ Selenia told him as he gawked at the huge spire, silhouetted against the night sky. 

Geralt had read that Talos was one of the Nine Divines, a pantheon of deities worshipped throughout Tamriel. He was unusual in the respect that he had once been man. 

‘Hmmm,’ Geralt grumbled. 

Selenia looked at him, clearly puzzled. 

‘I was told I could find my contact in the crypt of the chapel.’ 

‘In the crypt?’ she scoffed. 

‘The request came via my mentor, Vesemir, so I have no reason to doubt it. Plus whoever they are, they have already paid handsomely.’ 

After settling the horses in the stables, they made their way into the small inn. There was a large fire at one end of the room, which Geralt eyed longingly. The inn had a few customers, but it seemed quiet. They sat at a table near the fire, and eventually a server came over. 

‘What can I get you,’ she asked, as she looked at Selenia then at him, and did a double take. 

‘Can we have two ales, and whatever you have got that is hot from the kitchen. We’d also like a room.’ 

The entire time Selenia spoke, the server looked at him, her cheeks flushed, and the plump breasts threatening to escape her top seemed to rise and fall quicker. 

‘Two rooms?’ the woman asked, hopefully. 

‘No, just one,’ Geralt confirmed. 

The woman did little to hide her disappointment as she walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t long before she returned with two mugs of ale, and two large bowls of some kind of stew. The server’s eyes once again lingered over Geralt, and she almost thrust her breasts in his face as she placed the bowl in front of him. 

‘Let me know if you need anything,’ she added breathily, then moved back to the bar. 

Selenia giggled softly, causing Geralt to scowl at her. 

‘Looks like you have an admirer,’ she teased him. 

‘It’s the scar. I look dangerous, but they all think they can tame me,’ he quipped back. 

Selenia laughed. ‘Yeah, that must be it. Nothing at all to do with the fact you are tall, handsome, and muscular,’ she grinned and sipped at her ale. 

‘Are you mocking me, Dragonborn?’ he asked wrily. 

‘Me? No! Not the mighty White Wolf,’ she giggled. 

They ate their meal quickly, but remained by the fire while they finished their drinks. Geralt tried to ignore Selenia’s pink tongue as it darted out to lick her lips free of foam after each draft of ale, or the way her breasts beckoned him when she stretched her shoulders. 

Though not sleepy, he had no idea what tomorrow would bring and he knew he should rest. 

‘Let’s go to our room, we may have a long day ahead.’ 

The landlord showed them to one of the guest rooms in the basement. Despite its unusual placement, the room was spacious, cozy and well-lit by the iron chandeliers. Geralt immediately peeled off his armour, and flopped onto the large bed. 

Selenia joined him and snuggled up next to him. He could feel the softness of her breast pressing into his side, and her exotic scent in his nose, and he willed the hardness threatening to build in his groin away. He took a deep calming breath, and closed his eyes to meditate for a few hours. 

When he opened his eyes, Selenia was breathing deeply and evenly. He carefully pulled the furs up and around the two of them, trying not to wake her. Her sleep disturbed, she moaned softly, but didn’t wake. The sound was like a siren’s call to his cock, and it once again started to harden. He wanted to make her make that noise again, but from pleasure. He had to use all his Witcher control to supress the need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave kudos and a comment. Much appreciated.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Selenia was woken by noises coming from the floor above. The day was starting  in the city of  Bruma , and the owner of the inn was clearly getting ready for the days ’ custom ers . She closed her eyes, and spent a moment luxuriating in  Geralt’s embrace . Her hunger getting the better of her, she turned to face him, and stroked her hand across his cheek.

His eyes opened  immediately; the cat-like pupils focused on her. 

‘Shall we go see if there is any food available?’ she asked.

‘I’d rather eat you,’ he murmured, his voice deep and low.

The vibration of his voice caused her loins to quicken, and she smiled.  Geralt pounced on her, his teeth grazing her neck with a growl, causing her to squeal in surprise. She giggled slightly as he continued to ravage the sensitive skin on her neck. Her giggles changed to breathy sighs as his mouth moved south. His head disappeared under the cover and  Selenia arched her back pressing herself against him with a moan. Her eyes fluttered closed as she drifted on a wave of euphoria. 

Sometime later,  Selenia grinned at  Geralt as they dressed. She knew they were potentially heading into unknown danger, but she hadn’t been this happy in years. His back was facing her and her eyes briefly tracked the various scars on his skin before he pulled on his linen shirt. Once dressed in his full armour, he turned to face her, his face grim and determined.

When they walked into the bar area of the inn, their appearance startled the couple of customers already clutching cups of ale. Selenia asked the barkeep if they had any food available, and they were brought some bread and cheese. 

They ate in silence, Selenia  finding Geralt more taciturn than usual. She wasn’t offended. She suspected he was mentally prepping himself for  the task ahead. But what did that task entail? The request had come via someone Geralt trusted, but she sensed even he was disturbed by the secrecy of it. 

After they had eaten, Geralt paid the barkeep for another nights’ accommodation. They left their belongings in the room, bring only their weapons with them. 

‘Ready?’ he asked. 

She picked up her bow, and nodded.  ‘I’ll lead us to the crypt entrance.’

Selenia led them through the streets, lively with citizens from all of Cyrodiil, to the south quarter of the city. 

The cathedral towered over everything else in Bruma, its spire visible from across the city. Built of a dark grey stone, with towering buttresses separated by tall paned glass windows, it was an imposing sight.

They stood at base of the steps le ading to the three arched entrance doorways . Opposite the front door was  the ruins of  a statue of  Talos , the  original  namesake of the Cathedral. Geralt was staring at the statue. 

‘ Whose statue was here?’

‘Talos. It was destroyed after the White-Gold Concordat I expect.’

‘What is this “concordat”?’

‘An agreement between the Empire and the  Aldmeri dominion. It brought the end of a great war, but one of the terms involved the outlawing of the worship of Talos.’

‘What did this man do to become a god?’ asked Geralt.

‘Before  Talos , he was known as Tiber  Septim . He was the first dragonborn and used the power of the  _ thu’um _ to unite Tamriel, and many believe he was the greatest emperor that ever lived. On his death, he became Talos, and took his place as one of the Nine Divines worshipped throughout the continent, despite the empire trying to eradicate it.’

‘They should build a statue to you.’ Geralt stated.

‘Ha! I think not,’ she scoffed, her cheeks colouring.

‘But were your deeds not great? Did you not free this land of a dragon god?’

Selenia looked from Geralt, to the statue. ‘I want no statue. I just want to live the rest of my days in peace until Sovngarde.’

‘ Sovngarde ?’

‘It’s the Nordic afterlife,’ she explained. ‘It’s not the belief of the Dunmer, but it’s that of my Nord father, and I adopted it when I wed Farkas.’

Geralt held her gaze silently, his thoughts unreadable, then turned to the doors. ‘Let us begin.’

Selenia followed him up the stairs and through the huge doors. The doors led into  an entrance room. There was little furniture, just a desk, a few chairs and an ancient looking chandelier hung above their heads. A rug covered the stone floor, worn thin by the feet of the faithful. Just ahead was a corridor, where the entrance to crypt was.  Selenia nodded in the direction and they made their way over. 

Selenia was glad there appeared to be no one around. She would have had a hard time trying to come up with an excuse for them being there fully armed. 

The stairs down to the crypt were narrow and dark, though her keen eyes could see evidence of some light source below. There was the slight damp smell that always seemed to accompany crypts, and also something else. Something she couldn’t quite place.

She stepped cautiously into the crypt, her eyes quickly adapting to the low light that a few sconces on the wall gave off. The room was quite high, considering they were underground, and the vaulted ceiling was supported by several pillars. She could see a few stone tombs line the edges of the room, with worn stone edifices upon them, representations of the long dead. She hated crypts. She shuddered, thinking of how many times she had fought of draugr, a form of undead. 

She couldn’t see anyone, but seemed to sense there was someone here. If she had them, her hackles would have been up.

She looked questioningly at Geralt. 

‘I am  Geralt of  Rivia ,’ he spoke confidently to the room. ‘You sent for me, so show yourself.’

Selenia held her breath, her ears straining for the slightest sound. A whisper of a footstep came from the far east corner of the crypt, and she saw the dark shape of a tall slender man appear from the shadows. 

He stopped several feet away, the light from a near-by sconce casting stark shadows on his face, making his features macabre. He had jet-black hair, slick and swept back from a high and pale brow. His cheeks looked sunken and gaunt under harsh cheekbones. Thin cruel lips were pulled in a mockery of a smile. 

‘We finally meet,  Geralt . I have waited many a year.’

Selenia glanced at  Geralt to see if he recognised the man. His face was serious. His  nostils flared slightly, his eyes narrowed. He looked angry, she thought. 

‘Who are you?’  Geralt rumbled.

‘My apologies,’ the man smiled, and gave a slight bow and incline of his head. ‘You may call me  Dratteck van der  Eretein .’

The name meant nothing to  Selenia , but though he didn’t speak, she felt a wave of energy come from Geralt. 

~~~~

Geralt summoned every ounce of his training not to gasp in surprise. He knew the name van der  Eretein . It was the name of Dettlaff, a master vampire he had killed many years before. But who was this man? He certainly had the look of Dettlaff, even the moth-shaped broach over his right breast.

‘It was you that summoned me?’ Geralt asked.

‘It was!’ the man replied, seemingly amused by himself, and he started to pace slowly around the space. Geralt was concerned about  Selenia . In this proximity, her bow would be useless, but he could see from the corner of his eye her hand rested on the axe hung at her hip. 

‘Why?’  Geralt growled.

‘To kill you, of course.’

‘So this was a trap then. But the request came from Vesemir.’

‘Oh, you  Witchers really are dumb,’ the man laughed. ‘I sent the message via several sources, each one passing on to the next. Each one falling for the promise of wealth.’

Geralt drew his silver sword. ‘I will give you one chance to explain why you summoned me half way across the world.’

‘Isn’t it obvious? You killed my father. Isn’t a good son duty bound to seek revenge on his father’s killer?’

‘Your father was Dettlaff?’

‘Yes,’ the man sighed, brushing off some unseen lint on his sleeve. ‘It seems the traitorous harridan was pregnant when she eluded my father. The magic she used to escape his justice brought her here, to Cyrodiil.’

‘Your father was about to kill your mother. I attacked him only in defence of her.’

The man hissed. ‘She was a cruel and arrogant woman, who tried to excuse her behaviour, saying she was touched by the curse of the black sun, but she was just petty and deceitful. She always hated me, what I was.’

Geralt tried to edge closer to the man, to move between him and  Selenia . But Dratteck was too fast.

Dratteck grabbed  Selenia , his grip strong as she couldn’t break free despite her struggles. The man grabbed her hair, pulling her towards him, causing her to yelp as she flew into his chest. 

‘I love it when they struggle,’  Dratteck chuckled, his voice sounding more unhinged by the second. ‘It’s pointless, girl. I eat things like you for breakfast,’ he said as grasped her throat with his other hand and licked her face with a cruel laugh. 

The man stared at Geralt, his grip still firmly on Selenia.

‘How would you like it if I killed someone you love,  Geralt of Rivia?’ his grip tightening on her throat, his eyes glowing orange.

Geralt kept his voice low. ‘I’m a Witcher. I don’t love anyone. You should know that,  Dratteck . She is nothing to me, just a mercenary I hired to guide me here. Let her go.’

Dratteck laughed again, the sound demonic.

‘Do you think I am as foolish as you? I can smell the sex on you two the second you walked in the chapel. Don’t worry, I will kill you, but you get to watch me kill her first.’

Dratteck’s face changed, his face contorting into something more monstrous. His mouth opened unnaturally wide, revealing yellowed but sharp looking teeth. He dipped his head to sink them into  Selenia’s soft throat. 

Geralt charged, he struck at the creature, for it less resembled a man now. His silver blade came down on the arm around  Selenia’s neck, and his blade cut through the cloth, yet barely pierced the flesh.  Dratteck hissed at  Geralt , dropping  Selenia to the floor who scurried back coughing and clutching her throat. 

Geralt swung again, this time harder, and repeatedly.  Dratteck dodged behind a pillar, and spun around the other side, impaling the creature through the stomach.

A third of his blade was buried in  Dratteck , who just laughed.  Geralt pushed harder, his face grimacing with the effort. The blade was almost to the hilt, and  Geralt could smell the creatures disgusting breath, but he wasn’t going down as  Geralt had hoped. With hands that were tipped with obsidian claws, the creature pushed  Geralt away, sending him flying into one of the stone tombs. He then pulled out the sword from his gut with an unearthly cry, and tossed it away into a dark corner.

Geralt was briefly winded, but calmed himself until his breath returned. He couldn’t see where the sword had gone, and wasn’t sure how good the steel sword would be when the silver had had such little effect, but he stood and drew it anyway, wiping sweat from his brow with a gloved hand. He summoned all his Witcher strength, his eyes black, his face deathly-pale.

Dratteck had completed whatever transformation he had begun now, and stood before them the height of two men, his skin red-brown and wizened, and stretched over a skeletal frame.

‘Fuck,’ Geralt exclaimed. 

Dratteck now had large leathery wings, and his claws were each a hands length, and razor sharp.  Geralt signed  _ Aard _ __ in the air, causing a telekinetic wave to push against Dratteck. The creature slid back a few feet, putting him slightly off balance. It was a good an opportunity as he was going to get, so Geralt charged. 

He swung his steel at the creature, slashing across the chest. He dropped down under a swipe of the claws, and slid on his knees to slash at the ankle of the creature. The sword was having little impact. 

_ Igne _ .

Flames shot from  Geralt’s fingers and the creature shrieked. Geralt smirked slightly. 

He shot more and more flames towards  Dratteck , but felt his reserves depleting fast. His eyes scanned around for his silver sword. He finally spotted it, and took the opportunity to dive for it while the creature yowled at the latest bought of flames. 

Geralt had his back to the creature for less than a second, but despite his size,  Dratteck was fast. A large hand swung at  Geralt as he threw himself towards the silver sword, and the razor-sharp talons ripped into the flesh on his back. They dug in, and lifted him briefly off the ground and he was once again thrown across the room. 

‘Prepare to die, Witcher,’ the vampire screamed, and stalked towards him.

Suddenly, both the Witcher and the vampire turned their head to a threatening growl.  Geralt saw  Dratteck recoil when he saw the huge werewolf stood before him.  _ Selenia _ _! _

Selenia growled a challenge, and the vampire answered with a screech. She launched from powerful hind quarters straight at the creature, colliding with Dratteck, the two of them crashed to the floor. Selenia was rending flesh with her claws and sharp teeth even as the vampire did the same. The cacophony of bestial horror echoed around the crypt, but Geralt shouted above the noise.

‘His throat,  Selenia . His throat.’

He fought through the pain and stumbled over to where his silver sword lay, then saw that  Selenia had heard him as she had locked her jaws under  Dratteck’s chin. She was pushing with her front paws, trying to yank the flesh away, despite the vampire slashing at her. Eventually, she stumbled back, a huge glob of bloody flesh falling from her muzzle.  Geralt took his chance and swung the blade down with a cry of effort.

The blade went through what little remained of the creature’s neck, and separated his head from the rest of his body.  Geralt kicked the head away, then dropped his sword and collapsed in pain and exhaustion. He turned towards  Selenia , who sat still in wolf form, whimpering slightly and licking the wounds on her sides.  Geralt could see they were already starting to heal, then he flopped back in relief, and passed out.

When he woke,  Selenia was back in her usual form and kneeling next to him concern on her face. She was covered in blood and gore, and completely naked, her clothes having been  rended during her transformation. He could see the wounds on her sides were now closed, though they still looked bruised. This lycanthropy was a marvellous thing. 

She helped him up, and he grabbed a covering from the wall to cover her, and they made their way back to the inn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, then it would lovely if you could leave kudos and a comment.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

In their room,  Selenia cleaned up as best she could with the bowl of water, and put on fresh clothes. The only spare outfit she had was a simple woollen dress and a belt. As she dressed, she saw the way  Geralt shifted his weight and held on to the back of the chair. Though he tried to hide it, pain flickered across his face. 

‘Sit!’ she commanded, and he fell into the chair. He started to object when she went to inspect the wound, but she slapped his hand away. He must be in pain, or he would not have given up so easily, she surmised. His leather armour had a significant tear over his right ribs, the edges of whi ch were coloured a dark crimson . 

‘We need to get this off,’ she said unfastening his armour. Even though he was injured, and likely lost a significant amount of blood, he raised one scarred eyebrow, in a suggestive manner.  Selenia shook her head, too concerned for his well-being to be amused by his horn dog antics.

‘This may hurt,’ she warned, as she peeled the blood-soaked linen undershirt away from the wound. She fetched a bowl of fresh water, and slowly, carefully, cleaned the wound. It was deep, and needed stitches, but as long as he looked after it, it would heal. She pressed his hand over some clean bandage against the wound as she sought a needle and some thread from the landlord. 

She neatly stitched the wound together, then wrapped clean bandage around it. 

‘Rest now,’ she urged him, and went to fetch them some food and ale.  Geralt refused to eat, but as usual after a change,  Selenia was ravenous. After her meal, she lay next to him on the bed, propped up on her elbow as she studied his face. 

‘Don’t look so worried,’ he murmured, his eyes still closed. ‘I’ve lived through worse.’

Geralt slipped around her, and pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head softly.  Selenia closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his chest, trying desperately not to hold him as tightly as her feelings were telling her to.

_ He’s not yours to hold on to _ , she reminded herself.

She spent the rest of the day watching him closely, worried for any signs of infection, but he was clearly made of hardy stuff. He slept restlessly, his eyes flickering while dreaming, and she wondered what he dreamt of. Was he reliving the fight, or dreaming of his homeland? Finally, as he fell into a deep calmer sleep, with no sign of infection, she was able to relax. She turned over, pressing her back against him, and fell asleep herself.

Selenia woke, and had no idea of the hour, as they had no window, but instinctively she seemed to sense the moon was setting, so it was just after dawn. She was thirsty, she headed up to the bar to see if she could get anything to drink.  She came back carrying a tray with tea, some bread, honey and cheese. She placed it on the small table in the room. The tea wasn’t as good as the stuff she brewed at home, but it slaked her thirst. 

She sat in the chair watching over the sleeping  Geralt . She drank in the site of him. His huge frame was stretched out on the bed, one arm pillowed under his head causing his biceps to bulge.  His other arm rested lightly over his bandaged ribs; his fingers splayed over the defined abs. The hairs on his chest gathered below his pecs, and formed a dark line down the centre, to where his hip muscles formed a V shaped arrow, pointing directly at his cock, currently hidden beneath the covering, she could see the significant swell it caused. 

She looked back at his face, and almost as if he had read her thoughts, his feline gaze was heavy, full of unspoken lust, and desire bloomed within Selenia.

She lifted the dress over her head and left it drop to the floor before moving sinuously on to the bed, her thirst forgotten. She pulled down the cover and ran a finger over the exposed tip, spreading the moisture welling there over the velvety skin. She looked into his eyes, watching the myriad of expressions play on his face. Without breaking her gaze, she lifted a finger, moist with his nectar, and sucked her fingers to taste him. His topaz eyes flashed and nostrils flared, fierce and bestial, he was shaking with restraint. 

She grasped his cock gently, and ran her tongue the full length of its underside, and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath . 

She swirled her tongue around the ridge of the head, and grinned to herself as Geralt moved his arms to the bed, gripping the sheet. Finally, she took  the length of it into her mouth and sucked lightly as she pulled back. 

She cast her gaze to Geralt, and grinned. 

‘That’s good,’ he muttered, desire blazing in his amber eyes. ‘Don’t stop,’ he pleaded.

Selenia continue d her ministrations, alternating from sucking the wide tip and licking the  considerable  length, while  her other hand  gently massag ed his balls. Her hands and mouth picked up the pace and she could see it was having an effect as his hands gripped and released the sheet. Selenia took a deep breath, and slid as much of his cock into her mouth as she could, relaxing her gag reflex, allowing him down her throat. 

‘By  Melitele !’ he grunted. 

Selenia pulled off his cock with a pop, and gasped for breath. As she went for a second try, strong hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him.

‘Y our stitches,’ she warned. 

‘I t ’s ok, thanks to my W itcher mutations, I heal fast ,’ and he crushed his lips against hers.

Selenia smiled. She had wanted him to come in her mouth, but the need in her belly had grown, and she needed to feel him inside her. 

She moved over him, straddling his hips, knowing she was wet and ready, and sank herself down . She sighed and was still, savouring the full feeling as stretched her inner core. Once she had adjusted to his girth, she planted her hands on his shoulders , feeling his muscles shift beneath her fingers as she rocked her hips. 

Geralt’s hands slid to her waist, then as she moved, the y ran down over her rump before gripping her hips. He used his strong arms to drive her down on to him,  harder and faster. H is pubic bone and the wiry nest of grey hairs  at his root caused a delicious friction over her clit, each stroke building an exquisite heat inside her.  His strokes hastened as he raced with animalistic ferocity towards his release.

An explosion of incandescent pleasure erupted within her, as she stared into the molten lava of  Geralt’s eyes. Her core was on fire, and the calefaction brought Geralt to a blistering climax with her. 

She looked down at him, the sweat on his sculpted torso and silver wolf necklace gleaming in the  candlelight , and she knew she didn’t want this to end. 

~~~

Geralt came so hard, he felt he was falling apart , his heart galloping like a bolted horse . His soul had shattered , and when it came together again, he knew that there had always been a piece missing. 

He pulled Selenia to him,  their lips  soft  and warm ,  and their movements slow and tender. Her body fitt ed perfectly next to his ;  her scent , heady and exotic , filling his nostrils. A small voice in his head told him  she was the missing piece , but he pushed it aside as he  waited for reality to return to normal. 

He stretched cat-like, easing muscles that ached from the fight the day before. He looked down at the wound.

‘ A new scar to add to the collection , ’ he mused. ‘It is a wonder you are not repulsed by them.’

Selenia scowled at him. ‘Not at all, each one is a testament to your superior skill in combat. You  bested your enemies, you survived. I have scars too and I wear them with honour.’

Geralt smiled, leaned over and grabbed the sides of her perfect face and kissed her vigorously. He sat up and started to dress, Selenia doing the same.

He sat at the table, and helped himself to some of the bread and cheese left over from the supper he didn’t eat. The tea was cold, but he drank it anyway.

Selenia came over, as sat opposite him. She lathered some of the bread in honey, and moaned with pleasure as she took her first bite.  Geralt felt his cock twitch in response.  _ Damn this woman, _ he thought.

‘You know, your friend upstairs asked after you when I went to fetch the breakfast. She was concerned about you. Asked if you needed any help,’ she wiggled her eyebrows at him, enjoying this opportunity to tease him.

He couldn’t help but laugh at her obvious amusement.

‘I never thought I would experience a world where people enjoyed being with me. Welcomed me, even,’ he said with incredulity, cutting another wedge of cheese.

He watched as  Selenia’s expression changed. She put down her bread and sucked a trace of honey of one of her fingers.  Geralt’s mind immediately going back to when she had licked his honey off her fingers. 

‘What is it?’ he asked, concerned.

‘Why don’t you stay in  Tamriel ?’ she blurted. ‘If people don’t appreciate you back home, stay here. Make Skyrim your home.’

Geralt barked a surprise laugh, but her serious expression stopped it quickly.

‘Are you serious?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘Stay… and make a life with me.’

For a split second, Geralt nearly screamed yes. But then his sense of duty kicked in.

‘Selenia, I can’t. I have a life back on the Continent.’

‘A life you  were willing to give up when you thought Yennefer would share it with you,’ she responded, clearly getting upset.

He stood up, beginning to lose his temper. But who was he angry at? Her, or himself.

‘That was a stupid idea, a passing fancy.’

‘Was it?’ she pleaded. ‘Or do you still hold on to the fantasy that Yennefer will change her mind.’

‘This has nothing to do with Yennefer,’ he shouted. He took a breath to calm his voice. 

‘I am a Witcher, it’s who I am and what I do. I can’t change that,’ he growled.

‘You could, if you were willing,’ she cried.

He turned away from her and started to gather his things. 

‘You care about me, I know you do,’ she said behind him. 

Geralt swallowed a tightness in his throat. ‘I do not,’ he lied. ‘I cannot.’

Selenia sat heavily on the bed. ‘You claim you ’r e incapable of experiencing love, but the affection and sensual pleasures we have shared these past days since we met show me otherwise. I presume this is not something taught in your profession? This comes from you, Geralt.’

‘No,’ he said, his voice flat and cold. ‘It is  just  my way of countering the primal violence of my nature. Nothing more.’

She looked up at him then, judging him with those scarlet tear-filled eyes full of pain. She turned her face away, disgust on her face. It was the first and only time she had ever  looked at him like that. He knew the expression well, seeing it on every villager’s face on the Continent. He then felt the pain she did so keenly in his heart and he knew. She was right. He was in love with her. He was in love with this half elf, but he was scared. Never before had he regretted  so much his upbringing at  Kaer Morhen hadn’t covered how to handle emotions. 

Instead, he did what he always did. He ignored them. 

‘I think it might be best if you stayed in  Bruma an extra day or two. I can find my own way back. I have a long journey to  Jehanna to catch a ship back to the Continent. It’s best I get started. Alone.’ 

Selenia shook her head sadly. 

He sighed; his nostrils flared with anger. Her crimson gaze pierce d him as he watched her bite her lower lip, her expression a mixture of anger and sadness.

‘I’m leaving,’ he growled under his breath, not even daring to look at her further less his resolve crumble. 

As he opened the door, she grabbed his arm and spun him around, the feel of her hand against his arm and the scent of her infuriating his senses.

‘Are you sure you aren’t using the lack of emotions  as an  excuse to avoid facing up to your emotions?’

She was persistent, he granted her that. 

‘I am not a substitute for your dead husband, Selenia,’ he barked.

He saw the very second that one landed. He knew that one hurt her terribly, and he regretted it the instant he saw her face fall.

‘You… you are nothing like him,’ she sobbed. ‘He was sweet, and kind, and would never purposely hurt anyone. You don’t even come close to  him . You ’ re nothing next to him.’

With a heaving sob, she thrust him through the door, out of the room, and slammed it behind him. He stood for a second, listening to her cry ; a hollow ache growing within him. Half of him wanted to push into the room and hold her tightly, never let her go. But that wasn’t the half that won.

He made his way out of the inn towards the stables, hating himself a little more with each step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave kudos or a comment


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Skyrim/Witcher crossover

Geralt turned Roach down  a  path off the main road , his heart beating faster as the  building came into view. 

He could see smoke coming from the chimney so knew  the owner was home. Before he got much closer,  a large  dark- grey wolf appeared silently from the edge of the trees. With him was a slightly smaller wolf, presumably his mate. Roach whinnied nervously. Geralt swung down off the horse and walked slowly towards the wolf, his hands open to show he carried no weapon.

‘You know me,  Kodlak . Let me pass.’

The wolf growled again . Geralt took a step closer, and the wolf matched it, its growl increasing in volume. Both wolves kept their heads low, and looked as if to pounce any second. The irony that Geralt may get savaged to death by wolves a few lengths from his destination was not lost on him.

‘ Let him pass,’ a familiar voice commanded. Both wolves froze, and reluctantly  re turned to the forest, the male whimpering once  in protest  before following his mate into the darkness of the trees. 

Selenia looked at him, her expression cold, but as he got closer he could  also  see the pain in her eyes. 

‘ What are you doing here, Geralt ?’ 

He’d missed how she pronounced his name, and his heart gave a little flutter when he heard it.    
‘I’ve come home.’   
He hoped this would get some response, but her face remained stony. 

‘I stupidly got  as far as Jehanna before I finally realised what you already knew. That the Continent was no longer my home.  I’m an idiot.’

‘Something we can agree on,’ she responded.

‘ My home is here… with you.’

He  had stood on the docks,  pitiful and heartbroken,  negotiating with the captain of a ship over the price of his passage , when he had  suddenly  interrupted the man saying he  wanted to stay wit h Selenia. H e wanted to love her, and  make a life with her .  Leaving the confused captain, he had turned around and made his way back south.  He would brave this new land and then some to be with  her .

Her  crimson  eyes were luminous with emotion , and his gaze was drawn to her soft  rosy  lips that he wanted to capture within his own.

‘ I’m  sorry I hurt you,’ he apologised,  closing the gap between them . She didn’t move.

As he breathed in her familiar spicy scent, it filled his heart and mind, and knew he was home. 

‘ I swear I will never hurt you on purpose ever again. ’

She threw her arms around his neck, and he immediately pulled her into an embrace. He could feel her tears against his neck, and hoped they were tears of joy. He had so much to make up for. 

Finally, their lips met, and the last remnants of any doubt Geralt had died in that kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, all done. Hopefully you all enjoyed it. If so, i would love to hear from you so please drop me a kudos and a comment. Thanks for reading

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks for reading my story. I would really appreciate kudos and a comment if you enjoyed it.


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